Disclaimer: I don't own X-Men:Evolution or it's characters. Just my OC, Molly Callum/Creature and any original characters/background characters that may pop up from time to time.

AN: WARNING! A little sexy talk in this chapter, getting further with it then I've ever got before in a public story. Nothing gross, and I tried to keep it light and T-rated and, of course, not graphic. There's also allusions to and talk of Remy's "manhood" (You know, the stuff below the belt? -blushes purple-), but I figure, we talk about Molly's body ALL THE TIME, so Remy deserves to get at least one shot to how he is too. It's the same thing I do with Molly, just reversed. Awkward for me, but, hey, couples probably talk about this stuff when they're engaged and trying to stay pure and all that. Just trying to maintain a little realism in a sci-fi series...and give Remy his dues. ^_^; Lastly, I have no idea if DuContleare is even a real French name. I couldn't find anything on it, it just came to me and sounded nice.

They tried to delay getting home to face the music, but Jean had gone responsible adult on them and kept prodding. Eventually, they arrived through the front door a haggard little band of mutants.

"Ah, I'm glad you arrived back safely," Charles came from the hallway.

"Yeah, us too," Scott said, "Listen Professor, we talked it over, and we agreed. Even if we don't like your decision, as a team, we agree it was the right one. Magneto and his followers need our protection, even if they haven't earned it."

"I'm glad we can come to terms with it. And Molly?" The Professor questioned the small girl.

"... I'm sorry I left last night instead of talking it out. I was wrong. So, uh, what can we do to help?" Molly asked.

"That's very mature of you. I know this transition won't be easy, but I know everyone will adjust eventually," Charles steepled his hands, "First, the Acolytes will need your help moving in. Second, as we have limited space, there will be bunking arrangements temporarily until we get things sorted out. Along with plans to build Jean and Scott a small house on the property, the teachers and I thought it would be a good idea in foresight to create an annex for times such as this and if we have any overflow in the future."

"We understand," Scott nodded.

The Professor led them outside to a small, discreet cream colored pick up truck with some boxes inside, and a black SUV.
The boxes were clearly marked with a few code names to sort out the stuff. Glow, Bliss, Ratchet, Darkness, Rock slide, and...

"Mystique is staying with us?!" Rogue veered back a couple steps.

"Yes, I just found out this morning myself. I was going to warn you-" Charles said.

"Rogue-" Scott said.

"No. I can't stay in the same house with her. I can't!" Rogue insisted.

"Hey," Remy said, putting a hand on her shoulder, "I know better than anyone how it is. I also know you're stronger than any of us, easy. We'll play point guard and keep you apart as much as we can and the Professor isn't going to put you in a situation that would crack your mental strain."

"I won't put you or Kurt in a difficult position, Rogue," Charles promised, "Mystique will be ordered to give Kurt and Rogue a wide berth. Separate meal times, and a room in the lower levels."

"Fine, whatever. As long as she stays away." Rogue said.

"Not to drag things down further, but speaking of old enemies, where's, uh, Sabertooth's stuff?" Molly shifted her feet nervously.

"I decided to let him go," Magneto came up behind him, "Mystique, as hard as her relationship has been on some of you, is invaluable to me.
I didn't want to escalate tensions further considering Saber tooth and Molly's...history."

"Good call," Remy said, drawing Molly close, "We would've had words if anything bad happened."

"Come on, guys," Kitty said, "The sooner we get this stuff unloaded, the sooner we can be done. I've got a nail appointment, no matter what's going on."

Kitty's words brought Molly's mind back to reality and the present. No matter what was going on, life still kept chugging along.
They had lives to live, things to do, and none of that stopped because their mortal enemies were suddenly living in their house.
The Professor was right, they would adjust.

"Hey ton of fun," Glow, with her pink hair and black and pink outfit came up behind Molly, slapping her hard on the back, "I heard we're bunk mates."

... Adjust slowly.

Molly helped Glow put her things in her room, making space in the dresser.

"You snore?" Glow asked, her bright pink hair almost blinding to Molly's eyes and her garish catfish stockings and short pink skirt an eyesore. That long-sleeved black sweater that was oversized? So 90s.

"A little, but I guess it's not horrible," Molly shrugged, "If we're going to be rooming together, I should know your real name. I can't just call you Glow all the time."

"It's Marissa. Marissa DuContleare." Marissa said, pronouncing her last name with the hard French inflection, in syllables.
Du-Cont-Lee-Air. Despite herself, Molly liked it. Very elegant, very pretty sounding.

"Okay. I'm Molly," Molly nodded.

"I know. We were briefed before coming. It's going to be hard to keep the real names straight after calling you by code names for a while," Marissa said, "I wasn't too keen on coming here, but I gotta say, your Professor is loaded. Fancy digs for a bunch of preppy snobs."

"We're not preppy snobs," Molly shook her head, trying not to take offense, "If the Professor couldn't afford to have us all here, he wouldn't. And if he wasn't rich, I'm not so sure he would've taken...you know what, never mind. You got the run down, right? Breakfast is at seven, lunch is whenever or twelve, and dinner is at six?"

"Yeah, yeah," Marissa waved her hand, going through one of her few boxes, "Aw man! Did I leave it back at the-?! No! I couldn't..."

"What's wrong?" Molly was genuinely concerned. She hated losing things herself, so she could relate.

"My tunes. My iPod. It had all my songs on it and I left it all the way back in Germany!" Marissa held her head, looking like she might cry.

"Uh, sorry," Molly said, "I know it's not the same, but you can borrow mine until...uh..." Molly faltered. The Acolytes weren't like the X-Men.
They didn't get paid and didn't have surplus spending money. Molly dropped the sentence, going to her dresser and getting out her iPod, handing it over.

"I'll check it out, but it won't be the..." Marissa scrolled through Molly's ablums, "Y-you have all the Backstreet Boys songs? All their albums?!"

"Um, yeah," Molly was perplexed. Marissa didn't seem like the type to go for that kind of music, "Had to. Huge fan."

To Molly's surprise, Marissa reached out and hugged her, looking at her with actual tears.
"They got me through some tough times, th-that's all. Not that I'd expect you to understand, but this is... I'm happy. And surprised you like them."

"I'm surprised you like them," Molly said, "Your look... I mean...thought you'd be all about the punk rock or Disconso Rivets or something."

Marissa shook her head. "Backstreet Boys, Spice Girls, Dave Matthews Band, a little Lifehouse and some No Doubt. Garbage if I'm in the mood."

"It's a relief to hear you say that. We've got a little common ground," Molly smiled.
They weren't going to end up hating each other after all.

"Yeah," Marissa nodded, "Thanks for the lend. I'll take good care of it."

"Sure," Molly said.

"Woah, I didn't see that huge rock on your finger! Wow, check it out," Marissa yanked Molly's hand towards herself, examining the fine jewelry.

"Yeah. Remy just proposed to me Saturday night," Molly said, smiling hard again.

"You? I thought he was with the redhead, or what's her name? Rogue."

"No. Jean and Scott just got married last year and Rogue is with Piotr. You'll get to meet him later," Molly said, "I'm gonna go see Remy.
I'll catch you later, okay?"

"Sure."

Molly went to Remy's room, surprised to find it empty.

"Looking for me, _fiancée_?" Remy suddenly wrapped his arms around her from behind, pulling Molly close.

Molly turned herself around.
"Yes, because we really should start planning. The sooner the better."

"I agree. I'd run away with you tomorrow, but I know that's not what you want," Remy led her into his room to sit on the bed, "What's first?"

"Pick a date, naturally. Everyone waits to do that. I don't want us to. Besides, the way our lives go, a set date will be good to have," Molly said, taking out her smart phone.

"Okay. Anytime is fine with me...as long as it's not blistering hot. I mean, I'd take it if you really wanted to do a summer wedding, but we know New York heat is nothing to mess with. What are you thinking, Cherie? Spring, summer or fall?"

"Not as far out as fall," Molly scrolled through her phone's calendar for the next year, "Spring. It's already September, so that pushes out to more than six months. Too much more, and we'd get, uh, frustrated."

"In more ways than one," Remy smirked, then seeing Molly's slightly perturbed look, "Sorry. You're right. It would be too much to make it past spring."

"What month do you think?" Molly asked, wanting his opinion.

"April or May. June is too far to wait," Remy said.

"Okay. Saturday or Sunday?" Molly breathed, still in disbelief this was happening.

"I like Saturday. You?"

"I like Saturday too," Molly said, "Simple. The start of the weekend."

"How about May third? First week of the month. A fresh start to our new lives together," Remy held her hands, kissing them.

"I like it. Far enough out to change it if we need to, but not so far we're going to get too stressed out. Or...or frustrated," Molly said,
blushing.

"It's going to be difficult waiting for months to make you my bride," Remy tipped up her chin.

"I thought you were going to say something else," Molly blushed a bit more.

"Oh what? We've talked about _that_ before. Several times," Remy smiled.

"Yeah, but this time it's...real. In a few months that are going to speed by we're going to..." Molly turned purple.

"We're going to get married and have a beautiful wedding and a serene, perfect wedding night," Remy said seriously, "Come on, Molly. You thought now that we're engaged I was going to start talking dirty and mentioning how much I want us to, er, be together?"

"A little. I mean, you're the one that's always complimenting me," Molly said. That was putting it lightly.
Remy loved and adored her body, every inch, before getting that personal with her. It flabbergasted Molly, but she knew he was genuine about it.
She didn't put it past him to be a little more personal in his verbal affirmations and fawning, now that they were one step closer to getting married and, well, doing all that stuff she'd only dreamed about until now.

"Cherie, I'll save all the naughty talk for after we're married. To do otherwise would...well...you wouldn't like it anyway and it would just tarnish you. I love you, but I am a man. Calling your voluptuous and stuff? That's not the only thing going on up in my head about you, believe me." Remy said, tapping a finger to his forehead pointedly, but looking at her with warm, loving eyes and his classic handsome smirk.

"Nice to know. Thanks for thinking of me and saying all that. Guess I'm not like you when it comes down to it," Molly admitted.

"Merci Dieu and I'm glad. If you weren't so pure minded, I probably wouldn't have been as attracted to you in the first place." Remy kissed her forehead, then her mouth. After a little talk about flowers, potential wedding colors and the like, they started keeping busy kissing, letting the worries of the past day wash over them.

Molly eventually dragged herself out of Remy's room to go find Jean.

"Jean? Can we talk a minute?" Molly found Jean in her and Scott's room, brushing her long red hair at her vanity.

"Sure, what's up?"

Molly took a sitting chair near the bookcase, across from jean.
"I gave it some thought. I know it's early, but I was hoping, could you be our wedding planner?"

"What?! Molly, I don't know the first thing about planning a wedding. I'm not qualified."

"Yes you are. You've _been_ through this already. You're smart, you're organized, and besides Rogue, you're the only one around that can keep me from going total bridezilla if it comes to it. I'm spoiled and I don't trust myself. I don't want some rich lady who knows what colors go with which table cloths or whatever. I want someone I know and can trust. You've saved me and Remy a bunch of times. If we can trust you with our lives, we can definitely trust you with our wedding." Molly said.

"I get it and I'm honored, but can I think about it? This weekend has been stressful." Jean said.

"Yeah, of course. Thanks, Jean. It would mean a lot, but hey, no pressure." Molly waved her hand a little, getting up for the door, "Oh, uh, Remy and I were talking a while ago and everyone is wondering...are you pregnant? Kitty said your sister said you're looking a little, er, chubby lately."

"WHAT?!" Jean blew up, her hair brush and perfumes levitating for a few seconds, "Molly Callum, I am NOT pregnant and if I were, I'd tell all of you.-And my figure is the same as it ever was." Jean turned herself, worringly feeling at her sides as she quickly looked herself over in her vanity mirror from left to right.

"Okay, okay! Sorry. You know how the rumor mill around here is. Ah, you know, don't emotionally over eat I guess, otherwise you're gonna start looking like me." Molly smirked, standing outside the door frame.

"Thank you, _Molly_," Jean rolled her eyes, telekinetically shutting the door on Molly.

Molly went to her room, to make her own plans for the wedding. She had a lot to consider on her own. Bridesmaids, food, what kind of dresses she wanted for the bridesmaids, what flavor cake and how many tiers, (Remy would have some input on it, of course, but chocolate was her first choice), and things like music and where to find a good DJ. The bigger stuff, like location and where to have the reception, were going to be decided with Remy. She couldn't do that alone, and he deserved to have his say and be happy about it too. Weddings always seemed to be about the bride and it wasn't fair, in Mollys opinion. You couldn't have a real wedding without a groom, and a wedding-as well as a marriage-took two, not one. Molly wanted Remy to be on display and enjoy it as much as she was going to. She didn't want all eyes to be on her, she wanted all eyes to be on _them_. They were, as always, a team. Like Remy had said, best friends.

Molly took out a notepad from the top of her desk, with a pen and set it down. Except she found tears falling onto the paper. She was only crying happy tears, not from stress. Of course, she was grateful all the time she had Remy, but it had been a slippery slope to start out. He had never been under any obligation to stay with her, much less get engaged. Now they'd been through so many adventures and fights, struggling through feelings and what went from a rocky friendship, to denial on both parts, to dating...now they were planning their wedding. Going to start a new life together. Molly always wanted love and a boyfriend, but hadn't given it much thought past that until Remy took an interest in her. Now she had to decide what she wanted for their wedding. It had finally sunk in that she was going to get married, and it made her happy enough for her heart to burst. Not because she was to be married, but because she was marrying Remy. The only one Molly wanted. The only man Molly had ever loved.

Molly knew the details of the wedding weren't that important, that the marriage and staying together was the real test, but you couldn't have a proper wedding without decorations, good food and music. Unless you were happy with just getting hitched at the courthouse, but that wasn't Molly or Remy's style. Remy went all out, as evidenced by his beautiful, well-thought-out proposal, so he wouldn't settle either. Molly rubbed her eyes with her arm and composed herself, smiling. She had to think carefully. Things had to match.

Molly started listing things one by one in categories. Flowers, types of music, potential types of cuisine and colors. There were probably more things, but she could do her own research later. This was at least a start. Roses, pop and jazz, vegetarian Italian and Mexican, and red and gold were all first on her list, and she kept going from there. All the while Molly's mind wandered. Would they want to stay at the Institute or move somewhere close, like Jean and Scott were doing? They'd always wanted more privacy, but it so often seemed like a pipe dream. How would they decorate their room after moving in together? Would they stay in Remy's room or Molly's? (Remy's room was a bit bigger.) What would their first anniversary be like? (Where would they go? Maybe back to Paris?) Molly's mind soon went in a much different direction. How many times a week would they...want...or need...to have sex? (Molly blushed dark red, the prospect being more real now then it had ever been.) What kind of lingerie would Molly be comfortable wearing? (Never mind the excitement/slight dread Molly felt at the thought of Remy seeing her bare. His happiness with her body was already ensured, but he'd never seen her like that before. It would be different, certainly.) Likewise, Molly allowed herself to now be happy over the thought of seeing Remy wearing, well, absolutely nothing. She didn't try and picture it, being how she was, but Molly did have to wonder about him. Remy had the most beautiful body, but the parts that made him a man were still hidden from her. How he was shaped and how..."manly" he was. (Remy was confident, so surely he was...?) Foot size was a myth, wasn't it? Not that Remy had small feet or oversized. His feet were proportionate to the rest of him. Molly sighed loudly. His abs were nearly perfect. His chest was phenomenal. So the rest of him, it stood to reason, would be definitely as breath-taking and jaw-dropping. She'd get to discover her beautiful boy for herself.

Molly suddenly realized, chewing on the pens end in deep thought, she didn't know anything-not a single thing-about pleasuring a man. Oh well, another important talk for the women in her life who'd been around the block to have with her. (Never Jean, because of embarrassment, and she was possibly still figuring it out herself, but Molly's mother and other female relatives in the family would probably have lots of advice.)

Molly forced her mind back to more serious, less mature thoughts.

How would they handle money?

Would they ever want kids? (If Molly outgrew not wanting them, that is) How many? What would they name them if they ever did?

Molly almost fell out of her chair. These were two very, very important topics they had never discussed seriously. Only casually. She needed to talk to Remy immediately. This couldn't wait.

Molly zoomed out of her room and quickly found herself at Remy's door again. She knocked.

"Can't get enough of me today?" Remy opened the door, licking his lips and then smiling big.

"We should... I wanna talk. It's important." Molly said, going into the room. Remy left the door ajar behind him and sat next to her on the bed.

"Yes, Cherie?" Remy looked more in love with her than he'd ever been. Concern didn't even cross his face.

"Listen, I know you're excited about the wedding, I am too, but-"

"What? You don't want to get married? Do Still think we're too young?" Remy's face fell, hard. He went from elated to looking absolutely heart broken in seconds.

"Oh! No, no Remy! No!" Molly waved her hands, then grabbing his and squeezing, "No. I want to. A...a lot. I was just doing some planning for it and a lot of thinking and it occurred to me we hadn't talked about the really important stuff. Money and kids and...and other stuff." Molly blushed again.

"Okay. Great. Thanks," Remy caught his breath, "I think my heart stopped for a second. So, lay it out for me."

"How should we handle our money, first of all. One account or keep having separate accounts?" Molly questioned. They both had the same bank,
since there were only a couple in Bayville.

"Separate accounts. It makes sense and I think we both like having our own money."

"What's our spending limit going to be before we get upset or have to have a talk about it?" Molly asked.

To this, Remy laughed. "That's how you put it?" He put a hand over his mouth, considering it, "Hmm. Eight hundred?"

"Eight hundred?! Remy, I don't even spend that much on clothes in a year!" Molly's eyes bulged.

"Okay, okay. Half. Four-hundered?" He suggested.

"That sounds fair. Good, even number." Molly said, "Now, uh, kids? We're finally tying the knot, and we should make a decision now if we really want them or if we don't. If we do, how many?"

"I know how much you don't, Molly. I wasn't even going to bring it up. I'd be fine with not having kids." Remy said.

"Remy, that means not ever having kids. Forever. I don't hate them, but it's a big responsibility I'd rather not have if I could choose to. I'm not putting you through that. Tell me what you're really thinking," Molly pressed.

Remy sighed. "I've given it thought before. At the end of the day, I'm not sure I'd make a good father, considering how I was raised.
I don't know what a good dad is really like. I wasn't taught that, didn't have a good example of it. Kids would be great and it would be fun watching them grow up, but, for at least the next few years, I don't think it's a good option for us. What do you think about saying no for now, but if it happens in the future, we'll let life take its course. And, maybe if we have a little family started, we could adopt. I'd want to give a kid a home if things went that way. And maybe...three kids?"

"You really think I'd make a good mother, Remy?" Molly was touched.

"You've got it in you, even if you don't want them a ton," Remy smiled, "You would make a loving, caring mother Molly. I promise."

"Thank you. I think you'd make a great dad yourself. You're patient and you handle conflict well. I can live with keeping it open. I've gotten used to kids, but I'd rather stay away from the whole idea for a few years, if and when I ever want them. See how we feel later. And it's selfless of you to want to adopt. I'd be up for it, ultimately. Three kids would be, uh, good. Just not all at once!" Molly said, "Uh, anything else important _you_ want to talk about?" He needed a say, too after all.

"For now, our health. I don't just mean your weight, I mean everything," Remy said, "I should get tested for any future diseases and it would make me happy if you would too. I know a little about your medical history, but we should know everything. Life is uncertain, and we should know the pitfalls before they happen. I don't know if I have the potential for some major disease or something. One of the downsides of being adopted."

"See? You're smart, I wasn't even thinking about that. We'll have Hank test us first thing in the morning," Molly smiled.

"I can't think of anything similar, but we'll take things one day at a time. I would like to know where you want to have our wedding. A chapel? Here at the mansion? Somewhere else?" Remy asked.

"I hadn't given it much thought yet," Molly admitted, "I thought we'd look around and decided it together. I don't want to decide everything myself and I want you to have a say. That day should be about both of us, not just me. You're going to be my husband, my partner in life. You deserve a choice and to be as happy as I am with all the decisions involving our wedding." Molly smiled. She liked the way the word husband flowed across her lips.

"I like your stand for equality, Elue. Very loving, very forward thinking." Remy smiled.

Molly gave it a moment of thought. A chapel didn't feel quite right. They both believed in God, but a chapel, though highly traditional, just wasn't Molly's first pick. The mansion itself seemed old hat, since they were in it all the time and Jean and Scott had already married there, so it felt like it had been done before. A destination wedding was out of the question, what with the whole student body being invited. A place in New York City seemed elegant and dreamy, but a bit too far to travel for only a wedding.

"I don't have any ideas right now, but I'm sure we'll think of something before too long," Molly said.

Silence.

"Uh..." Molly faltered, staring into the floor, going red, "R-Remy? I was...wondering... I think we should...should, uh, t-talk about the, you know. The...not-a-virgin stuff!"

"Baby, why are you going shy on me now? Like I said, we've talked about it a lot before," Remy tipped up her face to look him in the eyes. It just made her blush more.

"N-not like this. Before, it was always a possibility. Now it's definite. How many times a week is proper? Are we going to, like, need to h-have it more times then others? I don't know what you like, and we do have a big height difference and-" Molly was cut off by Remy giving her a gentle peck on the mouth.

"Petite, Angel Face, _I_ don't even know what I like yet! You're worrying too much again. We won't be doing it everyday, I'm sure, but I know our lust for each other will temper down eventually. But I'm thinking to start, like most newlyweds, it'll be near impossible to keep our hands off each other and away from the bed, d'accord? Hmm, lover?" Remy was trying to lighten the mood and keep his lovely future bride calm. Molly appreciated it.

"Hey, I'm not your lover until we...that." Molly smiled.

"And as to the height difference..." Remy pulled her from the bed so that they were standing. He measured around with his hands, height and width of both of them, with a sarcastic smirk etched onto his handsome face, "It checks out. Our bodies are perfect, made for each other."

Molly laughed, but still, things were continually weighing on her mind.
"I know you, uh, have a good idea of how I look," Molly tried to keep eye contact, but couldn't avoid turning dark purple, "But, uh...well...guys a-and foot size and...stuff. Your body. I don't know...uh...feet things." Molly couldn't spit it out. Telling him she loved him on the edge of a plane had been a cake walk in comparison to this!

Remy's eyebrows crinkled together in confusion, rightfully so. He seemed to give it a few seconds of thought, filling in the blanks. Molly was surprised when _he_ managed to blush. Molly never thought she would see the day that Remy LeBeau was not only embarrassed, but blushing!

Molly watched her beloved fiancée square his shoulders, clear his throat, all in a desperate act to regain his usual confident composure and smooth attitude. They sat back down on the bed. "That's spoiling the surprise, trying to ask me such a personal question," Remy started, "But, for the record, I know for a fact that my, uh, manliness is above average. I think I'm rather impressive, but I'm not arms length, if that's what you're wondering."

Molly rolled her eyes as hard as she could.
"No! Jeez! Hopefully your stuff doesn't match that massive, giant ego, because if it is, I'm never going to be the same again." She vehemently crossed her arms, turning her head away a moment before forcing herself to look at him again. Somehow, even without being descriptive, Remy had managed to blow up his planet sized ego again. It had killed the embarrassment, thankfully.

"Cherie, you're not going to be the same again after having me, I'm going to make sure of it either way." Remy purred, getting up close to her face.

At that point, Molly grabbed a pillow and playfully hit him with it repeatedly.