A/N: Wow, has it ever been a long time. First off, I just want to apologize profusely for my horrendous absence. Life got in the way yet again of the things I enjoy doing, and my writing in all fandoms paid the price. Secondly, I want to humbly thank all of you who have hung around patiently, who sent PMs and reviews to let me know you were still on board. It really meant a lot and it helped force me to make time to write even when it was only ten minutes here and there. I am going to finish this story, there are only seven chapters left and I anticipate the next post going up next week. Also, I've got another X-men Evolution fic in the works, called Rogue Evolution, which is basically a retelling of the Evo storyline focusing on Rogue. There will most definitely be Romy in it, but not until I get to Day of Reckoning since Remy doesn't show up in the series until then. Check it out if you like, and let me know if you enjoy it. Thanks again for all of your wonderful, wonderful patience!

Chapter Ninety-Three:

"Sabine."

"No."

"Nicolette? Celia?"

"Knew a Celia once, hated her. Nicolette sounds bitchy."

"Okay den. How 'bout Jeanne?"

"Zhahn?"

"Pronounced dat way, but spelled like Jean wit' an 'ne' at de end."

"No, too confusin' then."

"Lola?"

"She was a showgirl."

"What y' got 'gainst showgirls, chere?"

"Nothin'," Rogue said flatly, fixing her husband with a pointed look. "Unless mah daughter grows up wantin' t' be one."

"So y' admit dat it's gon' be a girl, den?" Remy challenged slyly.

Rolling her eyes up at the stark white ceiling of the med-bay, Rogue resisted the urge to strangle him, even if medical attention was so tantalizingly nearby. It wouldn't do for her child to grow up without a father just because she'd gotten annoyed with him.

Hell, she'd known he was a pain in the ass when she married him.

"Antoine?" Remy suggested, and when she blinked at him he added, "If it's a boy."

"No," Rogue responded, crinkling her nose. "Ah don' like it. How about somethin' after a member o' yo' a family? Maybe Jean-Claude or Jean-Pierre?"

"No Jean-anyt'ing," Remy protested. "Mon pere would kill us fo' brandin' his grandson wit' dat name."

"Hmm," Rogue murmured, flipping through the French baby book. "What about Julien?"

Her husband looked at her as if she'd just grown a tail. She glanced down to make sure, one could never tell with the way her template powers had been flaring up during this pregnancy, and then made the connection between the name and the horrified expression on Remy's face.

"Oh, right," she said, wincing. "Je suis desole." She bit her lip, absently placing a hand on her rounded stomach. "Bella should be due any day now. Ah wish we could be there."

"She knows, chere," Remy assured her, placing his own hand on hers and rubbing her knuckles. "But y' heard Monsieur Beast, no more flyin' while yo' pregnant- unless it's under yo' own power, dat is. We don' want y' t' get nauseous again an' blow anot'er hole in de plane wit' optic blasts or somet'ing."

"Ah was an accident," Rogue muttered petulantly. "Scott didn' have t' be such a baby over it."

"Chere, y' punched a hole in the side o' de jet at t'irty t'ousand feet!"

"An' Ah said Ah was sorry!"

"And she shouldn't have to say it again," Hank McCoy's jovial voice cut in, the furry doctor giving them both an amused look as he switched on the ultrasound machine. "Now, Rogue, dear, if you'd lift up your gown, we'll get started."

"Heh," Remy chuckled, moving his hand from hers. "T'ink I may have said dat once o' twice."

"Lecher," Rogue accused, rolling her eyes.

She complied with Hank's orders and tugged her scrub gown up to just below her breasts, the blanket over her lap covering the rest of her while leaving her rounded stomach exposed. The lubricant gel was cold as he applied it to her skin, but since she was expecting that, it didn't startle her nearly as much as it had at her last check-up. Hank placed the transducer probe against her stomach, gently moving it across her skin.

"Mebbe Mercy an' Henri can come up fo' a visit," Remy offered suddenly, and she turned her head to see him rubbing his chin absently. "If we asked, I t'ink dey'd jump at de chance."

"Ya think so?" Rogue asked wistfully.

It had been so long since she'd seen Mercy, she was practically in sister-in-law withdrawal. And with her own pregnancy progressing so slowly, it would be months before they were able to visit New Orleans to show off the newest LeBeau.

Another six months to be exact.

"Oui," Remy replied. "We call dem t'night, hahn?"

"Merci," Rogue told him softly, and reached over to squeeze his hand. "Je te aime, Remy."

"Dat's good t' hear," Remy said with a grin. "'Specially since jus' dis mornin' y' tol' me dat y' wanted t' rip my arms off an' beat me t' death wit' dem."

"Ah'm hormonal, Ah get t' be indecisive an' violent."

"So yo' mere keeps tellin' me," he retorted dryly. "Some days I t'ink I'm more afraid o' her dan yo' hormones."

"She's a scary woman," Rogue conceded. "At least Logan's up front about his threats- he jus' pops the claws an' growls. She likes t' be subtle, so ya don' know when or where it's comin', only that it is an' there's nothin' ya can do t' stop it."

"Did I ever tell y' dat y' have a creepy family?"

"Only every other day for the past two months," Rogue replied. "Ah-"

"Hmmm."

At Hank's low murmur, their conversation came to a dead halt and both Rogue and Remy turned to stare him in apprehension. "What do ya mean, 'hmmm'?" Rogue demanded. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"What?" Hank said absently, then looked up at them. "Oh, nothing. I assure you, there's no reason to be alarmed, everything looks perfectly normal."

"Then what's wit' de look on yo' face?" Remy asked.

"Well, I'll need to try and get a better angle to be sure," Hank responded, shifting his glasses on the bridge of his furry, broad nose. "The visual isn't very telling right now, it's early and the positioning isn't ideal, but I do believe that I'm hearing two heartbeats."

Rogue tried to speak, but her throat was dry.

"Right," Remy said impatiently, not getting it. "De baby an' Marie."

"I should have clarified," Hank said. "Two fetal heartbeats."

"What does dat mean?"

"It means, Monsieur LeBeau," Hank answered. "That you are going to be the father of twins." He clapped a hand on Remy's shoulder, positively beaming. "Congratulations!"

Remy made a small, strangled noise, his eyes glazing over.

"Oh dear," Hank murmured.

Rogue ignored her husband, leaning forward to try and peer at the ultrasound. "Can ya see them both?" she asked breathlessly.

"Not today, no" Hank told her apologetically. "But I think perhaps in a week or so we should be able to, if the little LeBeaus feel more accommodating then than they do today."

"Can we tell the sex then, too?" Rogue asked. "It's about that time, right?"

"There's a chance we'll know on your next appointment, yes," Hank confirmed. "It really depends on the babies themselves and how stubborn they are."

"Oh, they're stubborn all right," Rogue snorted. "One of them kept nailing me with a kidney shot last night while Ah was tryin' t' sleep. Every time Ah started t' drift off, he'd drill me as hard as he could. "

"How unpleasant," Hank commiserated. "Now, I don't think we need to have any concerns regarding your health, carrying twins is much like carrying a single child, but multiples do tend to arrive early. So the final month or so you'll need to take it easy. No taking your students into the Danger Room, no flying your troublemakers onto the roof and leaving them there."

"Alex ratted me out, did he?" Rogue scowled.

"My dear," Hank replied with a chuckle. "The entire mansion could hear Mr. Harrison's whimpering."

As if to demonstrate, Rogue's stomach gave a low, rumbling whimper of its own. "Sorry," Rogue said, without any real embarrassment. "Ah'm starvin'."

"Well, you are eating for three now," Hank pointed out. "Why don't you get dressed and head up to the kitchen to see if Jean has lunch ready."

"All right," Rogue agreed, sliding off the exam table. "Thanks, Hank."

"Anytime, my dear."

He went into the supply room to give her some privacy while she changed out of the gown and into her regular clothes, and was intently rifling through the medicine cabinet when she finished so she let him be and turned to collect her husband instead.

"C'mon, Remy," she said, hoisting him to his feet with one hand. "Yo' kids are hungry."

"Kids," Remy mumbled in a daze, and she grinned despite herself as she led the way out of the med-bay and down the hall to the lift. They rode it up to the ground level and then headed to the kitchen.

Inside, Rogue found Alex, Roberto and Sam sitting at the table and chatting with Lucas, the four men all hungrily woofing down turkey sandwiches like teenage boys, and Jean was at the sink doing dishes like any old housewife.

Of course, she was doing them with telekinesis.

"There's a sandwich for you on the counter, Rogue," Jean said, without turning.

"Thanks," Rogue told her, picking up her plate and taking it over to the table. Sam nudged his own chair over a little to give her room, and Lucas poured her a glass of lemonade from the pitcher on the table as she sat down between them. "An' thanks t' ya'll, too."

"How'd it go with Dr. McCoy?" Roberto asked.

"Good," Rogue answered with a smile. "Ah dunno what Ah'd do without him."

And wasn't that the truth.

Hank had chosen to relocate to the main school for the duration of her pregnancy, as he had apparently done during Jean's, so that he could be on-call around the clock. The others, those not residents of the Westchester Academy, had returned to their own cities a few weeks prior. Duty called after all, and the various X-teams still had work to do, but her parents and Kurt visited every weekend and Kitty had already been up twice since she and Lance returned to Charleston. Her former roommate had informed her, in no uncertain terms, that she would be coming up to stay during the final weeks of her pregnancy, to make sure she didn't miss the big day.

Rogue was going to have to call her later, and tell her there would be two babies for her to dote on.

"Uh, Rogue?"

Blinking, she turned to Sam. "Yes?"

"What's with Gambit?"

At the sink, Jean paused in her dish cleaning, glancing at Remy with a frown.

"Oh, he's jus' had a li'l shock, that's all," Rogue assured them, taking a bite of her sandwich. "He didn' know how good he really was."

"And my appetite is gone," Alex declared, pushing his plate away.

"Not like that, ya sicko," Rogue scoffed. "Hank jus' tol' us that Ah'm havin' twins."

"Holy shit."

"Wow."

Alex, Sam and Roberto were gaping at her stomach in disbelief, as if they couldn't imagine two babies could be concealed there.

"Poor LeBeau," Lucas said evenly. "No wonder he's in shock."

"Tessa already knew, didn' she?" Rogue demanded, narrowing her eyes. "An' she tol' ya."

"I confess nothing," Lucas answered vaguely.

Luckily for him, Jean decided to save him and abandoned the dishes to rush over and embrace Rogue in a warm hug. "Oh, Rogue," the older woman cried. "I'm so excited for you. Twins might be double the work, but they're double the fun, too."

"Keep that in mind when Ah call in babysittin' favors, Jeannie."

"Any time," Jean promised, squeezing her hand in hers. "Now are we thinking two girls, or two boys, or one of each?"

"Too early t' tell fo' sure," Rogue replied. "But one o' each would be nice, then Remy an' Ah would both be right. We're both sore losers."

"No," Roberto cried dramatically. "You?"

"Ah don' believe it," Sam chimed in. "Not fer a minute."

"Careful, boys," Jean warned them with a grin. "Or you might be drafted for babysitting duty, too."

"Like Ah'd leave my kids with these idiots," Rogue snorted.

"Hey, at least we wouldn't take them into the Danger Room as infants," Alex pointed out. "Can you say the same for their grandfather?"

"Don't worry," Jean said, seeing the look on Rogue's face. "Logan wouldn't actually do that."

"Really?" Rogue asked hopefully. "Ya sure?"

Jean's soothing expression faltered. "Maybe we better look into baby-proofing the Danger Room," she suggested. "Just in case."

Translations:
chere- dear
mon pere- my father
je suis desole- I'm sorry
Monsieur- Mister
oui- yes
merci- thanks
je te aime- I love you
mere- mother