Chapter 4: Labor Day

A/N: Instead of giving all you intelligent people a bunch of apologies, let me just say that I'm now in my 2nd last year of school, and the workload has been overwhelming: the only time I'm on the computer is for writing 2000 word long essays, and that's the reason for my appalling updating. Sorry…

Disclaimer: HOW MANY TIMES?? I. DO. NOT. OWN. XMEN.

"Shit," swore Rogue as she dropped her biro and it rolled off the bed. She stretched over her bump in vain. Bobby grinned as he picked it up and handed it to her.

"That's the 3rd time this evening. Are you doing it deliberately?"

Rogue pouted.

"Shut up, Iceboy. It's bad enough I feel like a beached whale, as well as having to correct 25 English essays."

Rogue and Bobby were in her room, each preparing their classes. Rogue taught English and Philosophy, while Bobby taught Physics and Calculus. Rogue was now 8 and a half months pregnant, and hadn't seen her toes in weeks. She leaned over to peer at Bobby.

"Watcha doing, honey?"

"Hang on a second…" He scribbled something down on a piece of paper and swung round to face Rogue.

"Ok. I was thinking maybe Cornelia?"

Rogue sighed.

"Do we have to do this now?"

"Well we haven't got much more time left…"

"Fine, read me the list."

"Annabel?"

"No."

"Sarah?"

"No."

"Fiona?"

"No."

"Gwendolyn?"

"No way!"

Bobby flung down his sheet in despair.

"Rogue! Do you have any ideas then?"

Before she could reply, there was a knock at the door. It was Storm.

"Bobby, could I have a minute?"

When Bobby came back in a moment later, his face looked worried.

"Rogue, Storm has to pick up a runaway in California and she needs a co-pilot. You and I are the only other ones who know how to fly the jet…"

Rogue shrugged.

"So? Go – just as long as you promise not to run off with some tanned, blonde girl called Tiffany."

"But what about you – will you be ok?"

"Bobby, I'm not due for another 2 weeks –besides I'm hardly alone here, am I…"

Bobby's face relaxed a little.

"Well, only if you're sure..."

"Booby if you don't go now, I will attack you in a pregnancy-induced-craving need! Go, save the day, oh and bring back spaghetti!

"Spaghetti?"

"Blame it on the cravings!"

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Logan had just finished stopping a pair of sugar-high, telekinetic twins from killing each other with flying bookends, and was complementing a large drink and a few cigars when he heard a shriek form Rogue's room. He burst in to find her trembling and breathing deeply.

"Logan!" she cried. "Get Dr. Ross!"

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After examining Rogue, Dr Ross went to talk to Logan, who was waiting outside.

"Logan, Rogue has gone into labour. Her waters have broken and she's only having 10 minute intervals between her contractions. Normally, I would just take her to the med. Lab, but there's a problem..."

"What!" snapped Logan.

"The baby is in the breech position –"

"What does that mean?"

"The head is not pointing downwards, as it should be. There could be complications and I for one, am not prepared to take that risk. She needs to go to hospital."

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As Logan carried Rogue into Westchester Hospital, he glanced at Dr Ross who was following. First of all, he noticed that her feet were on the ground. Second of all, her face was pale and her hands were shaking.

"Are you ok? 'Cause I don't think I can carry both of you."

"Staying on the ground is harder than it looks," replied Dr Ross.

Logan caught the arm of a passing nurse.

"Please, help, she's in labour."

The nurse took in the situation in a second.

"Ok, sir. Lets get her into this wheelchair and go straight up to the maternity ward."

The nurse knelt down beside Rogue.

"Hey, sweetie. Can you tell me your name?"

"Its…Marie…" pants Rogue.

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Rogue lay on a hospital bed, her legs up and apart.

"Ok, Ro – Marie, you're 7 cm dilated. Hang on a bit more."

Logan stood at the top of the bed. As he mad to leave, Rogue grabbed his hand.

"Isn't this Iceboy's job?" he muttered.

"You're…good…at being a sub," Rogue panted.

"Ok Rogue, when I say so, push as hard as you can."

Suddenly, the doors burst open and in burst Bobby, still in his X-Men uniform.

"Bobby!" cried Rogue. "You made it!"

Logan slipped quietly out, as Dr Ross said: "Push, Rogue, push! Good girl…."

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Logan paced up and down outside the delivery room. He badly wanted a cigar. Who would've thought it – him, Logan, so worried over the birth of a child. Of course, it wasn't any child…

His thoughts were interrupted by a pretty nurse smiling at him.

"Sir? You can go in now."

Logan stepped inside cautiously, clearing his throat. He approached the bed, where Bobby and Rogue were cradling a tiny little girl with a shock of black hair and bright blue eyes. Rogue looked up at him and smiled.

"Meet your god-daughter, Logan."

Without warning, she reached up and placed the baby in his arms.

"Um, Rogue…are you sure-?" asked Logan.

"Sssh, she's asleep…"

But the baby opened her eyes and as Logan stared into them, his heart melted.

"Have you thought of a name for her?"

Rogue and Bobby glanced at each other.

"Yes we have," replied Rogue nervously. "Logan, meet Jean Anna Drake."

Logan looked into the baby's big blue eyes again.

"Hello Jeanie…Welcome to the world."

A/N: There we go! Rogue's daughter is born! Please review…I love you all!