Chapter Seventy-Three:


When an hour had passed with no sign of Rogue, Remy decided to go in search of his elusive wife.

Professor Xavier had been in his office, busy looking over some of the students' records, but he'd been helpful enough, informing him that Rogue had been roped into helping Jean with dinner before Remy had even opened his mouth to announce his presence.

After thanking the Professor, Remy headed towards the kitchen, and as he approached the sounds of feminine laughter wafted through the hall. Poking his head into the room, he found the two women talking and smiling as they prepared dinner. Rogue stood at the stove, stirring a boiling pot, chatting animatedly with Jean, who was rolling ground-meat into meatballs on the cutting board sitting on the counter.

Remy paused in the doorway, leaning against the door-frame, and observed them silently for a few moments, watching his wife's face as she and Jean laughed about whatever it was they were discussing. She really was a different girl than she had been all those years ago at the Institute, and this moment proved it. During her teenage years, she had never gotten along with Jean, and the two girls would never have spent much time alone together willingly, but it was clear that Rogue was enjoying herself, and enjoying Jean's company.

"Dere y' are, chere," he drawled at last, causing both women to look up in surprise. "Was begginin' t' t'ink dat y' ran out on ol' Remy."

"If Ah had any sense at all, Ah'd have done that a long time ago, swamp rat," Rogue shot back with a smirk.

"Den let's remercier Dieu dat y' don' got any sense at all," Remy retorted with a wolfish smirk of his own.

His wife laughed, shaking her hair back over her shoulders as she stirred what he could now see was a pot full of noodles. "Watch it, M'seiu LeBeau, or ya might find yo'self sleepin' on the floor t'night."

"M' gon' take my chances, Madame LeBeau," Remy fired back, moving forward to wrap his arms around her waist. "Somehow I don' t'ink dat yo' gon' turn me away."

Rogue rolled her eyes, even without seeing her face he knew she did. "One o' these days Ah'm gonna do jus' that, jus' t' see the look on yo' face, Cajun."

"Sure y' will," Remy chuckled, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. "What y' femmes be cookin' in here, anyway?"

"Spaghetti," Jean answered, flashing him a smile as she finished the last of the meatballs and reached over to turn on the oven. "It's one of the few things all of the students here will eat."

"Can' go wrong wit' spaghetti," Rogue agreed. "An' it's virtually impossible t' ruin."

"Unless de cook be Emil," Remy amended dryly. "Y' 'member dat, chere? De time he tried t' cook pasta fo' Tante Mattie's birthday?"

"Oh God, don' remind me," Rogue shuddered dramatically. "It was like eatin' sticks, an' no one had the heart t' tell him, so we had t' eat it all."

Remy grinned, not bothering to point out that he had been more than willing to tell his cousin what he thought of his cooking, but Rogue had threatened to do him bodily harm if he'd so much as opened his mouth.

"Sounds like you have a great family, Remy," Jean said politely. "Rogue's been telling me about them, they sound like wonderful people."

"Merci, p'tite," Remy gave a nod of his head to show his appreciation. "Dey really are."

"They'd hafta be," Rogue teased. "They put up wit' ya, don' they?"

"I'd say dat y' do de same, mon amour," Remy reminded her, leaning in close so that his breath spilled across her ear. "But Remy t'inks y' do more dan jus' 'put up' wit' him."

Rogue glanced over at him out of the corner of her eyes, but instead of a wisecrack like he'd been expecting, she looked over at Jean almost hesitantly. Remy frowned, uncertain what was wrong, but Jean seemed to realize that Rogue wanted a moment of privacy, so the redhead moved to the other side of the spacious kitchen, rummaging through the refrigerator for spaghetti sauce.

"What is it?" Remy asked softly, searching his wife's gaze expectantly. "What's wrong?"

"Nothin'," she assured him with a tired smile. "Ah jus'... Ah need t' talk t' ya 'bout somethin' later, that's all. Somethin' important."

"Remy already knows what y' gon' say, chere," he informed her with a shake of his head.

She gave a small start of surprise, raising an eyebrow inquisitively. "Ya do?" she asked in disbelief.

"Oui," Remy shrugged casually, reaching in front of her to take over stirring the noodles for her. "Y' wan' talk 'bout what de Professor tol' y', 'bout Logan."

"Oh," Rogue said, nodding absently. "Yeah, actually Ah do. Who tol' ya?"

"Monsieur Summers," Remy answered, giving her a sideways glance. "Bit o' a rough shock, hahn?"

"That's the understatement o' the century," Rogue muttered under her breath. "Ah have half a mind t' ring Mystique's neck fo' the whole thing."

"Lucky fo' her den, dat y' only got half a mind, non?" Remy quipped, earning a death glare from his wife, which he quickly banished by leaning over to give her a quick kiss on the lips. "How y' feel 'bout havin' de Wolverine fo' yo' pere?"

"It's... complicated," Rogue sighed, rubbing her forehead wearily. "Ah mean, Ah love Logan, Ah always have, he was like a father t' me ever since Ah first joined the X-men. But it's one thing fo' him to be a father-figure, an' quite anot'er t' find out that he actually is the man who fathered me, ya know?"

"Non, not really," Remy apologized with a smile. "But I get yo' meanin'. M' sure it wasn't exactly a picnic fo' him, either, findin' out dat Mystique had kept his child from him all dese years."

"Yeah," Rogue agreed. "If it'd been me, Ah would have put those claws o' his t' good work."

Despite himself, Remy chuckled, all too aware of which parent Rogue had gotten her temperament from. If she'd gotten the claws to go with it, well, he might not have survived the trip back to Magneto's island base after breaking her out of Area 51.

"Y' got access t' dose claws now, chere," he pointed out. "Y' plannin' t' use 'em?"

"Ah have an itch t' do jus' that," Rogue admitted, shifting her weight in annoyance. "But Ah think we both know Ah ain't gonna. Whatever she's done, Mystique is still mah mother."

"An' Remy's belle-mère," Remy added with a grimace. "More dan likely she be my executioner, too, or one o' dem, hahn? Bet dat M'seiu Logan an' de furry one be happy t' give her a hand."

"Don' worry," Rogue said with a small smile. "Ah'll protect ya, sugah."

"Promise?" Remy asked playfully.

"Avec tout mon coeur," Rogue replied seriously.

"Bon," Remy whispered, tilting his head down to kiss her on the forehead. "Dat's good t' know. T'ink dat y' can take Logan, Mystique an' Kurt all at de same time when dey try t' kill me after dey get here t'morrow?"

Rogue smirked, arching an eyebrow wryly. "All Ah hafta do is tap in t' Jean's powers an' Ah can immobilize 'em wit' her TK, or Ah could always jus' use mah own powers and zap all three o' them."

"Dat's my girl," Remy chuckled. "Now, why don' y' leave de stirrin' t' moi, an' go help Madame Summers wit' dose jars o' sauce? She be tryin' t' carry enough t' feed a small army it seems."

Jean looked over at them in amusement, hefting yet another jar of spaghetti sauce onto the counter beside the refrigerator. "These kids eat like a small army," she said dryly. "And they have the table-manners of one, too."

Rogue laughed, and crossed the kitchen to grab several of the heavy jars at once, earning an appreciative look from Jean. "Super strength has its advantages," the telepath observed with a smile.

"It does at that," Rogue agreed, scooping another jar into her arms and making her way back to the stovetop. "Remy, will ya grab that saucepan in the cabinet fo' me?"

Remy did as she asked, and held the saucepan steady as she began to pour entire bottles of sauce into it. "Yo' grocery bill must be ridicule, Jean," he commented, shaking his head at the amount of sauce it was going to take to feed all of those kids.

"Tell me about it," Jean said with a wry smile as she brought over the last of the sauce jars. "I never gave much thought to how much it must have cost the Professor to feed, clothe and house all of us back in high school until I started teaching here."

"Huh, me neither," Rogue mused. "An' wit' our boys, 'specially Kurt an' Bobby an' Sam, he probably had t' buy out the grocery store every month."

"More like every week," Jean retorted with a snort. "I..." she trailed off suddenly, her eyes narrowing sharply, and she groaned. "Just what I need."

"Trouble wit' de kids?" Remy asked sympathetically, having seen Tessa pick up on things with her telepathy in that manner countless times over the years.

"As usual," Jean sighed wearily. "Looks like Blake and T.J. are fighting over what video game to play in the rec room again. I swear, I'm going to kill Alex for buying an X-Box."

"Boys will be boys," Rogue shook her head. "No matter how old they get."

Remy purposefully ignored the pointed look she sent in his direction. After all, he and Emil preferred Playstation2 to the X-Box, so the two situations were nothing alike.

"I'll be back in a few minutes," Jean said. "Can you guys continue without me in here? The meatballs need to go into the oven, it should be hot enough by now, and the noodles and sauce need to be stirred a bit longer."

"Sure thing, Jeannie," Rogue nodded, opening yet another jar of sauce and pouring it into the saucepan. "Go discipline the rugrats."

"Oh, I intend to," Jean said with a groan as she slipped out of the room.

"Wan' me t' put de meatballs in de oven?" Remy asked his wife, and she nodded wordlessly. "Y' look tired t'day, beb," he observed as he did so, carrying the tray across the kitchen and tugging open the oven door. "Y' feelin' okay?"

"Ah'm not tired," Rogue corrected. "Ah'm exhausted. Mah head is killin' me, mah feet hurt, an' Ah wanna curl up in bed an' go t' sleep."

"Huh," Remy grunted, looking at her appraisingly.

"What?" she asked, noticing his stare, as she unscrewed the lid on the next jar. "What are ya lookin' at me like that fo'?"

"Jus' never heard y' complain so much b'fo', chere," Remy remarked with a lopsided grin. "Y' sound like Emil."

Rogue lifted the wooden spoon out of the noodle pot and waggled it at him threateningly. "Better watch it, Cajun," she warned slyly. "Or ya might regret it."

"Is dat so?" Remy asked with a smirk.

"Yeah," Rogue informed him with one of her own. "That's so."

Remy opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off by the sound of the front door banging open out in the foyer.

"Where is she?" an eager voice demanded, followed by what had to be thudding of bags hitting the wooden floor.

Rogue's head jerked up instantly at the sound of that voice, her lips parting in wonder, and she started towards the doorway just as a tall, lean man dressed in a navy fleece pullover and jeans came bounding into the room, scooping her up into an exuberant hug.

"Bobby Drake!" she shrieked happily, swatting him in the chest as he swung her around. "Put me down this instant!"

He ignored her, of course, and Remy knew that she didn't really mind at all. Her protest had been for appearance sake more than anything else. She had missed Bobby terribly over the past four years, and Remy had suspected that the reason she got along so well with Emil was that his redheaded cousin reminded her of the prankster X-man.

Bobby grinned, setting her down, but not releasing her from his grasp. "It's been a while, Rogue."

"Too long, Iceboy," Rogue said with a laugh, tugging off the blue ski-cap from his head to reveal a mop of brown hair to match his brown eyes.

"How many times do I have to tell you?" Bobby scowled. "It's man. Iceman."

"We'll see 'bout that," Rogue said wickedly, and then threw her arms around his neck before planting one on him. It was all Remy could do not to laugh at the dazed expression on Bobby Drake's face as his wife took a step back, grinning in satisfaction. "Ya know, ya may be right, Bobby, looks like yo' all grown-up now."

"Yeah," Bobby said absently, blinking in surprise. "You kissed me..."

"That Ah did," Rogue agreed with a chuckle. "Ya gonna be okay, sugah?"

Finally free of his shock, Bobby leaned down to kiss her on the cheek. "Now that you're back, we all will be. We missed you, Rogue."

"Ah missed ya'll, too," Rogue said, tearing up a bit.

Remy missed what she said next, because at that moment a familiar voice called out, "Remy, my boy!" and the next thing he knew he was getting the wind knocked out of him when a pair of blue-furred arms pulled him into a hearty embrace.

"Remy be glad t' see y', too, M'seiu McCoy," Remy choked out, patting him on the shoulder. "But I can' breathe."

Hank immediately released him, and Remy took a deep breath, rubbing his chest. "Terribly sorry about that," Hank winced sympathetically.

"S'okay," Remy dismissed the apology with a wave of his hand and smiled at the mutant scientist. "Y' didn' break anyt'ing."

"I should hope not," Hank responded. "You look wonderful, I see you finally shaved off that ridiculous goatee."

"My neveu kept tuggin' on it," Remy explained ruefully, rubbing his chin. "De femmes tol' me t' shave it off or quit complainin' 'bout de pain."

"Never would have pegged you for the kind to be whipped, man," Evan Daniels snickered, entering the room with a bag slung over one shoulder. "But I guess it's hard not to be when your wife can wipe the floor with you, huh?"

"My wife can wipe de floor wit' jus' 'bout anyone, mon ami," Remy retorted, clapping the other man on the shoulder. "S'good t' see y' duex. How y' been since de fiasco on de island wit' de Sentinels?"

"Not bad," Evan shrugged. "Been busy helping them train the newest bunch of mutant brats."

"Evan," a female voice, poised and elegant, scolded, and Remy looked up to see a dark-skinned woman with long, silky white hair standing in the door. Behind her were three more mutants, one being a member of the younger generation of X-men, by the name of Rhane Sinclair, and another that Remy recognized from Magneto's files as Warren Worthington. The third mutant, a beautiful woman with purple hair and finely chiseled features, he had never seen before, but given the way she held onto Worthington's arm, it was a safe bet that she was Angel's girlfriend.

"Sorry Auntie O," Evan rolled his eyes, not sounding very contrite at all.

"Ororo!" Rogue's delighted cry cut off whatever further scolding Ororo Munroe might have been about to give her nephew. Remy had the presence of mind to take a step back to avoid being trampled as his wife rushed over to embrace her former teacher.

Ororo blinked back tears, lifting one arm to wrap around Rogue's back and the other coming up to cradle the back of her head. "Oh, child," Ororo murmured. "How I've missed you."

After a long moment, Rogue pulled back, sniffling as she smiled up at the taller woman. "Ah've missed ya, too, 'Ro."

"You've grown up so beautifully," Ororo marveled, resting her hands on Rogue's shoulders. "I'm just sorry that I missed watching it happen."

"Me, too," Rogue said, hugging her again. "There's so much Ah have t' tell ya, 'Ro... Ah don' even know where t' start."

"The beginning is usually a good place," Hank commented evenly, and Rogue pulled away from Ororo to flash him her brightest smile. "Might I have a hug, as well?"

"Like ya could keep me back," Rogue retorted, stepping into his embrace. She looked decidedly thin in his massive blue arms, Remy noted with a smile, as Hank patted her head affectionately with his ape-like hand. After a moment he took a step back, eyeing her with pride.

"My word, look at you, my dear!" he beamed.

"She's a belle femme, non?" Remy asked with a grin.

"Indeed, she is," Hank agreed with a chuckle. "I can scarcely believe my eyes. Is this the same girl who used to brood around the mansion?"

"Ah did not brood," Rogue protested indignantly.

"Oh, yes, you did, girl," Evan snickered. "Between you and Logan, there was way too much brooding going on around that place."

"Now Ah remember why Ah always wanted t' pluck out yo' spikes, Ev," Rogue rolled her eyes, then stepped forward to embrace him. "Ah'm so glad ya'll made it off the island okay. When we weren't sure how many orbs had taken off..."

"I'm just glad that you and Remy here are okay," Evan remarked. "We were all feeling pretty bad about having to leave without knowing for sure what had become of you guys. Pietro took if really hard, he was pretty torn up when the Prof said you had to be dead."

Remy didn't miss the way his wife's expression flickered at the mention of Magneto's son, and he could see how desperately she wanted to ask about Pietro, but she didn't. Not that she blamed him, of all people to inquire about Pietro to, Evan was probably not the ideal choice. The rivalry between the two of them was one that wasn't likely to ever really die out, even if they weren't actively trying to make each other's lives miserable.

Still, Rogue had to be dying for information on Quicksilver, he was surprised she had held out this long from asking. He made himself a mental note to remember to ask Lance about the speedster later on, so that he would at least have something to rely to his wife. Hopefully that would put her mind at ease, at least temporarily.

"How on earth did you two escape?" Hank inquired.

"We trashed a few Sentinels, den ma chere here flew us t' de mainland," Remy explained. "From dere we jus' decided t' head t' N'awlins t' stay wit' ma famille." He glanced over at Rogue for confirmation, but his wife had already moved over to greet Rhane with a warm hug.

"T'is good t' see ye, Rogue," Rhane said with a warm smile. "Ye look great."

"Thanks, Rhaney," Rogue chuckled, fingering the younger girl's shoulder-length hair. "Outgrew the pigtails, did ya?"

"Aye," Rhane said sheepishly. "Was about time."

"Ah like it, the new like suits ya," Rogue nodded.

"I could say the same about your new look," Warren said, finally speaking up from his position in the doorway, where he had been silently watching the scene unfold with amusement.

"Well, well, if it isn't our resident guardian angel," Rogue said, grinning up at him. "Yo' lookin' good, Wings."

Warren smiled, leaning in to hug her. "I could say the same to you, Rogue. How have you been?"

"Good," Rogue replied. "A thief stole away mah heart, so Ah married him t' get it back."

Warren's gaze briefly flickered away from her to land on Remy, who gave a nod of acknowledgment in return, before smiling down at her again. "Sounds like the past few years have been treating you kindly," he observed.

"How 'bout ya'll?" Rogue inquired, raising an eyebrow pointedly as she gave a curious look in the direction of the purple-haired woman behind him.

"This is Betsy," Warren said, stepping aside to gesture his girlfriend forward. "She's a telepath and telekinetic, like Jean, but she can also teleport through shadow portals."

"Among other things," Betsy added, a slight British twang accompanying her words. "Hello, luv, it's a pleasure."

"Likewise," Rogue agreed, shaking her hand. "The cocky lookin' guy by the counter is mah husband, Remy LeBeau."

"Evan's told us about you," Warren said evenly, extending a hand in Remy's direction.

"Not'ing bad, I hope," Remy replied, shooting Evan a look as he shook Warren's hand.

"Well, not all of it, anyway," Warren said smoothly, but there was a twinkle in his eyes that told Remy he wasn't being entirely serious.

"Dat's good t' know."

After being introduced to Rhane and Betsy, Remy found himself face-to-face with the weather witch known as Storm. "LeBeau?" she echoed curiously. "Is that any relation to Jean-Luc LeBeau?"

Remy and Rogue exchanged startled looks. "Oui," Remy nodded slowly. "He's mon pere. Y' know him?"

"We met once, a long time ago," Ororo replied vaguely. "When I was just a teenager in Cairo."

Remy didn't miss the sudden dawn of realization on his wife's face at that, but he decided to let it go, figuring he could ask her about it later. "Small world, non?" he asked with a forced smile.

"It certainly is," Ororo agreed.

"So..." Bobby rubbed his hands together eagerly. "What's for dinner?"

"Do you ever think about anything other than food?" Scott Summers grunted as he entered the room, with his brother Alex and Sam Guthrie at his heels.

"Do you ever think about anything other than work?" Bobby shot back, and Scott gave an exasperated sigh.

"You guys made good time," Alex observed, looking at the clock on the wall.

"Auntie O is one mean pilot when she wants to be," Evan said proudly.

"Yes, well, it was for a good cause," Ororo murmured, earning a grin from her nephew.

"Glad you all made it here safely," Scott told her, then turned towards Rogue. "Jean sent us to help you finish getting dinner together. She'll send Jamie and the girls down to set the tables in the dining room in a bit. I hope you don't mind if we eat with the students..."

"Not at all," Rogue assured him with a smile. "Ah kinda like watchin' ya'll in action. Who'd have thought that Scott Summers would wind up teachin'?"

"Certainly not me," Scott said with a faint smile.

"Or me," Alex said, wrinkling his nose.

"Or me," Sam added.

"Or anyone with even a drop of sanity left in their twisted, frail minds," Bobby piped up with a grin.

"Do you see what I have to put up with?" Scott asked with a groan. "They're worse than the kids."

"Quit whinin' an' start stirrin'," Rogue ordered, thrusting the wooden spoon into his hand. "Bobby, since yo' so hungry, get out the colander so we can drain these noodles. The rest o' ya'll... go unpack or somethin', would ya?"

"Aye, aye, captain," Bobby said with a mock salute.

"Well," Scott chuckled. "You heard the lady- get moving."


Translations:
remercier Dieu- Thank God
mon amour- my love
ridicule- ridiculous
belle-mère- mother-in-law
Avec tout mon coeur- With all my heart
neveu- nephew
belle femme- beautiful woman


A/N: Sorry, wasn't as long as I would have liked, but I am pressed for time today, so it will have to suffice. Look for a new update, in which Rogue will let Remy in on her little secret, sometime in the next week, maybe around Sunday :)