COUNTDOWN

~ 3 days 10 hours 17 minutes 0 seconds ~

A faint murmur wakes him. It doesn't take a lot to alarm a thief or an X-Man for that matter … so many enemies he's lost track. And you don't make it this far otherwise.

But it's nothing, as is usually the case, and his eyes fall back to drowsy slits. Its early morning, but still dark outside. Nearly time for feeding cats and some good black coffee. But not yet. They still have another hour or two. Remy shifts from his back to his hip, moving in closer to the woman beside him who roused him in the first place. She's dreaming again, hushed mumbling he can't discern escapes her lips now and again and her lashes flutter. Not a nightmare this time, it seems.

His fingers travel down her limp outstretched arm, toying with the metallic circlet on her wrist. She's forgotten to take it off again. It's a crutch they don't really need anymore, but sometimes she'll wear it anyway just to be sure that when she loses control, she doesn't lose control entirely and pull him too much into her. When they are in the moment, the kind where no matter how close their bodies are it still isn't close enough, it's all she can do not to reach out with her powers. Part of him likes when she does - the little edge of pain it adds to the pleasure. And sure, he gets off on knowing how badly she wants him and that he can take her so out of control. But nothing beats the way the sip she steals off of him inevitably pushes her over the edge. It's taken a lot of practice to get to a point where they can be together without him inevitably losing consciousness though. So sometimes it's easier to fall back to using the inhibitor bracelet. As a bonus, it means no chance of one of her nightmares pulling him out of himself in the middle of the night.

His fingers brush lightly down past her knuckles, to the cool ring resting on her third finger. He traces it over and over again. She is his. And he is hers. And no matter what horrors they might face out there on the battlefield, they always have this to come home to. Knowing that makes any hardship worth the while. It's been well on past a year now, almost two, and maybe not every day has been a bed of roses, but has he ever been happier? He slides in even closer to Rogue and pulls her warm, soft body against his own. He needs to have her, just once more, before dawn arrives and they go their separate ways. He nuzzles the space just under her ear and kisses her there softly, but insistently. She won't welcome an early wake-up call unless he makes it good and worth it. And he's more than up to the challenge where that's concerned.

More of his kisses and enticing caresses make her lashes flutter and her breathing pattern change as she stirs to wakefulness, but her brow knits and she breathes out a groan that is subtly different from one born of annoyance. There's an edge of discomfort there he can sense. He brushes a few wild strands of hair away from her face and kisses her forehead, "W'as wrong?" he murmurs softly.

"Mmmmm." she frowns and blinks, her green eyes opening to find his in the darkness. "Ah dunno. Ah feel strange." she whispers.

He rubs her shoulder, waiting for her to elaborate and trying to get a better sense of her.

She closes her eyes and groans again.

"Rogue?"

"Think Ah'm getting sick." she whimpers, curling up against him.

He rubs her back some more and kisses her hair. "Chère, you don' get sick."

She doesn't answer right away, still frowning and gritting her teeth she finally hisses, "Ah do so."

She clutches her midsection, closes her eyes and then suddenly brings a hand up to cover her mouth groaning again, "Ah … uhhh …" then swiftly zooms from their bed to the bathroom before he has a chance to react.

Remy sits up in bed listening after her. Waiting. Confused. This isn't the turn he was hoping for this morning to take. He can't remember the last time he saw Rogue ill. She never catches anything. It's in her very biology, a side effect of her borrowed invulnerability - a major blessing, except when it's also a curse.

*Mmrow?*

A little gray cat hops up into the bed next to him and rubs against his elbow.

Remy scratches Oliver's head, still listening. No sounds are coming from the bathroom now and he doesn't know what to make of the situation.

Five, then ten, then fifteen minutes pass and still nothing. He slides out of bed, starting to feel concerned, and walks to the bathroom door. He knocks gently. "Anna? You alright in dere? … I'm comin' in."

He pushes the door open and slips inside. Rogue is sitting curled up with her back against the wall not far from the toilet. Her eyes are clenched shut and she's taking deep slow breaths.

"Rogue?" Remy grabs her robe off the hook, draping it over her naked shoulders. Noticing the bracelet still on her wrist, he unlatches it and sits beside her rubbing her back some more.

Another ten minutes pass and her breathing eases.

"Ah'm ok … it's getting better, whatever that was." She murmurs at last.

Remy frowns. "The bracelet maybe?"

It's been known to give her headaches sometimes, but this is new.

"Maybe." she shrugs.

He slides an arm under her knees and another under her shoulders, lifting her with relative ease to carry her back to their bed.

"Ah can fly just fine." she protests, a small smile playing on her lips nonetheless. "Besides, Ah'm awake now. Probably should just get up an' hop in the shower." she sighs.

"Non, it's too early, chère. 'Sides, I want a little more time b'fore dey steal you away." he hums in her ear as he lays her down and climbs in next to her again.

Her hands trace the lines of his body as she settles in against him, bare skin on bare skin. He lets his fingers roam up and down her body soothingly. Much as he wants to escalate this, he can still sense something off balance about her energy. So they keep it easy. There are comforting kisses and little contented sighs. Tiny feet pad around them in the bed, finding spots to curl up. They eventually drift back into semi-sleep again until-

*MeMeBeep … MeMeBeep … MeMeBeep*

Rogue's phone alerts and she moans a protest as she untangles herself from Remy and rolls over to snatch the offending device off her nightstand.

The screen light glows off her face as she reads out loud, "EDT moved up to 7:00 AM. … dammit, guess Ah'm getting up after all."

She starts to rise, but Remy pulls her back down over him and kisses her hard this time, finally relenting when she moans softly against his mouth. "Just needed one more." he smirks, releasing her.

She lingers a moment longer straddling his torso and sighs at him with vexation, "How 'bout a rain check on the rest?"

"Deal." he grins at her, stretching out temptingly on the bed as she reluctantly gets up.

She rolls her eyes at him with a huff, turning to re-enter the bathroom. When he hears the water come on in the shower, he pulls himself up out of bed also and changes into a pair of shorts. Time to head up to the roof and work off some of this excessive angst.

~ 3 days 9 hours 13 minutes 39 seconds ~

Rogue is dressed in her green and white, hood pulled over her head when she steps out onto the roof top sipping a mug of something warm. The morning sun is just coloring the sky in pinks as it comes over the horizon.

Remy's back is to her as he twirls the bo staff in a flourish, stretches gracefully forward in a thrusting strike, pivots on the staff to deliver a roundhouse kick to an unseen foe, then shoulder rolls, backflips, and ground pounds the staff without sending the kinetic pulse he normally would.

Rogue whistles a cat-call, bringing his workout to an abrupt halt. He saunters over to her, accepting the outstretched towel.

"What time you flyin' out, sugar?" she asks as he pats the sweat off his brow.

"Couple hours." he replies nonchalantly, not even out of breath.

"And you're gettin' back to town when now?" she raises a curious eyebrow.

"The 27th." he answers, sniffing at her mug, "What's dis you drinkin'?"

"Chamomile. Wait … what's today again?" she asks with a scowl.

"24th, chère. Chamomile? You still feelin' bad?" he frowns, taking the mug from her to gently grip the wrist where the inhibitor bracelet had been. He turns it over inspecting it and gives the apparently normal skin an affectionate brush of his lips.

Rogue looks confused for a second, but then shakes her head. "It's fine. Ah'm alright, Remy."

"Did you eat anything yet?" he interrogates.

"Ah'll get something at the mansion. REALLY. Ah said Ah'm fine." she raises her eyebrows and her voice a little.

"Anna … mebbe you should talk to Hank 'bout the bracelet." he responds with concern. "Somethin' ain't right."

She sighs. "Ok ok, Ah will. But when Ah get back tomorrow. Ah'm tellin' you it's nothin'. Probably just a bug. Which you're totally gonna catch by-the-way there, "Romeo". That or food poisoning. Told you those crawdads were no good." she sasses and leans in to kiss him on the cheek. "Ah'll come meet you at the Institute when ya get back Wednesday, ok? Until then, maybe try not ta die on me, Swamp Rat? Ah don't fancy bein' a widow just yet."

He smirks, "Only if you promise to do th' same, chère." and kisses her back, but full on the lips despite her little squeal of protest.

"Do my best. And it'll serve you right if you do catch somethin'." she teases him as she lifts off into the sky.

He watches her go until she is lost from sight then heads back in. Time to feed the cats and be on his way also, except with some good coffee, not this tea nonsense.

~ 0 days 4 hours 41 minutes 25 seconds ~

The flight back from Madripoor is a long one, but not so bad Remy thinks, present company considered.

"Dis your card, petite?"

"Ooooohhhh, it is! How'd you do that, Mr. Gambit? Can you teach me?" Gabby gasps in delight.

"I tol' you, Gabby. S'okay to call me Remy." he laughs. "An' sure, petite. I teach you. Here, hold the deck like dis. Now it's all in the wrist, see?"

"Ooof! Dang it." the cards go flying.

"Keep practicing, kid. We got th' time, yeah?" Gambit smiles, lounging back in his seat as he watches Gabby recapture all the escaped playing cards.

Her sister and clone, Laura, yawns across the aisle. "Isn't that the truth. How far out are we, anyway?"

Remy shrugs. "Few hours?"

Gabby rearranges her deck, attempting to manipulate the cards in vain and looks up at Gambit helplessly.

"It's alright, you nearly got it. Now, the trick is to slide de secret card in right 'bout here. But you don' want no one lookin' at dat. You gotta make sure they lookin' here, see?" Remy coaches, flipping his deck fluently between his fingers to show her.

Gabby's eyes go wide, "I don't think I'm gonna be that good at this for a while."

"Course not, petite. Dis took years of practice." Gambit assures her with a grin. "You'll get it."

Gabby shuffles the cards back and forth, trying to work out the maneuver. "You should be a Dad, you know. You're pretty good at this stuff."

Laura looks up at her annoyed, her hands turned in an upward gesture of "Why would you say that?".

"What?! That isn't bad to say!" Gabby gapes back at Laura in equal annoyance.

"It's fine, Laura." Remy assuages, then to Gabby, "Thanks, petite." He outwardly nods with appreciation, though he can't deny it does sting a bit. And here he thought he was good and past all that.

"So why don't you? I thought that was the whole big reason people get married?" Gabby looks at him dead serious.

"Gabby!" Laura sits up seriously irritated now.

"Now, petite …. We don' hardly have time to look after our cats. Who's gonna watch a baby when me an' Rogue are out livin' the X-Man life on grand deadly missions like dis one?" he jokes lightly.

"Me and Laura would babysit!" Gabby volunteers, jumping up excitedly.

"Well dat ever happens, I'll know who ta call. But t'ings ain't always so simple." he deflects calmly.

"Oh …. is it "complicated"? … like … health class, weird gross tubes and wacky chemicals kind of complicated?" she asks in confused awe.

"That's enough, Gabby. Remember how we talked about things you don't ask people?" Laura growls at her in utter exasperation.

But Remy just barks a hearty laugh. "Ha, "tubes"? … who they got teachin' dat class now anyhow?!" when his phone vibrates and he holds up his pointer finger to the sisters to signal a pause in the conversation as he answers it, "Oui?" Then he gets up to walk down the aisle chatting on in a serious tone in broken French.

"Gabby, when are you gonna learn when to quit already?" whispers Laura across the aisle.

"What? Why are you being so weird?" she whispers back, throwing up her hands.

"They can't have kids! Because of Rogue's powers." Laura murmurs at her.

"Ohhhh." Gabby frowns.

"Yeah. So maybe let's not keep talking about that?" Laura crosses her arms.

Gambit comes back up the row to his seat and Laura looks at him questioningly.

"Eh? Naw, jus' Guild business." he mumbles and heaves a long sigh.

Gabby looks up at him sadly, still rearranging the playing cards. "You know, I hear adopting kids is almost as easy as adopting cats."

Gambit just cocks his head at her in confusion, as Laura glares, looking ready to jump up and throttle her. Gabby abruptly and wisely switches topics.

"So how 'bout this card trick?" she smiles wide.

~ 0 days 3 hours 15 minutes 4 seconds ~

Rogue ducks into the small corner store where a chime announces her entry, her hair well tucked under the hood of an oversized and rather unflattering gray pullover sweatshirt. At least the Xavier Institute logo is strategically subtle. Though it probably doesn't really matter. Would anyone here really recognize or even notice her in the heart of the city in the middle of a Wednesday? Hardly anyone is even in the store.

She makes a B-line for the aisle she needs, passing shelves of diapers, Depends, pads, tampons, and personal lubricants until she's face-to-face with an assortment of small bewildering boxes. She stares at each of them in turn, biting her lip. She didn't really want it to come to this, but she needs an answer to this nagging worry and preferably before he gets home. She's only maybe three days late at most, which is nothing actually. Not like everything runs exactly perfectly like clockwork all the time afterall. But something is wrong. And it can't be the bracelet, because she hasn't worn it in days. So as impossible as this might be, she has to rule it out.

"Can I help you, miss?" the elderly pharmacist asks as she passes her aisle. She's seen more than one young woman caught like a deer in headlights in this particular region of the store.

Rogue startles and then mumbles, "Oh … uhhh … no, Ah'm fine. Thanks."

The pharmacist nods and walks on, shrugging to herself.

It's stupid, she knows. But its times like this Rogue wishes she had the kind of mother you could actually call and talk to about things like this. She sighs and grabs one of each brand to throw in her basket, then shuffles up to the register.

The college kid at the counter with a spiky pixie cut, full sleeves of tattoos, and about every piercing possible rings her up. Rogue's stomach churns some more, though she can't be sure if it's nerves or the same queasiness that's been haunting her for days now … maybe both? The cashier warily eyes her greenish expression while passing her the receipt.

Rogue hurries out of the store into the fresh air and breathes deeply. She's only barfed once so far, but no need to relive that. She backs casually into an alleyway when no one seems to be looking and then shoots into the sky in her sweatshirt and leggings. If anyone spots her flying they'll probably just think its Danvers anyway she thinks with an eye roll.

She's home in a matter of minutes, entering through the unlocked skylight. The cats greet her enthusiastically, but she's too distracted to pay them any mind. Rogue marches her running shoes directly into the bathroom with her bag of goodies and pulls out the first box. She turns it over a few times, hesitant, and her eyes start to well up. Maybe she shouldn't be doing this alone.

She's done this alone once before though - a LONG time ago. It was right after Remy was blinded. They had just come back to the team after those blissful months on the beach. Her powers were already starting to return, but they were weak, so she asked Sage to jumpstart her like she did for Remy. She just wanted to help her friends. She didn't think about the cost. But after Gambit got injured on their first mission out, everything felt like it was falling apart. They couldn't touch anymore. He was scared, angry and he pushed her away … like he didn't trust her … after everything they'd been through … that hurt. That hurt her so much. So she ran away. And it was then, when she was all alone, that she realized she was late, several weeks late. She took a test she found in the mansion and it was positive. The next morning she was set on telling him. Then she started to bleed. That was the end of it. … until she told him during one of their sessions in Paraiso. She never told another soul besides.

Was it her powers that caused it? The jump start? Injuries from the battle they were in? Just a fluke? Or was it never really real? She'd never know.

And when the Terrigen Mist gave her M-Pox, she was sure that was the final death knell of any chance she might ever have children of her own. Leave it to Wade fucking Wilson of all idiots to cure her of that scourge with his ridiculous healing factor that she absorbed.

Starting over with Remy, she was hopeful again that maybe someday it could happen for them. Tante Mattie's teasing and Remy's poorly concealed enthusiasm sparked a curiosity in her. One that was quickly squashed by a discussion with Hank not too long after, which spelled out a pretty bleak picture for them and seemed to confirm all of her worst fears about what happened before. Her powers, the absorption and invulnerability, it seems will keep her body free of any and all intruders. Even the kind she might want.

So there's no way this can be real.

She blinks and wipes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and opens the box.

~ 0 days 1 hour 14 minutes 57 seconds ~

Gambit strolls down the hallway frowning at Rogue's text message "Change of plans. See you at home."

He passes by the kitchen and the oversized living room where plenty of students are gathered.

Some he knows, others not so much. A few of the little ones point at him and whisper. The older X-Men are becoming something of legends to them, it would seem.

Bobby Drake is hanging in the foyer, looking out the window and waiting for a ride.

"Hot date?" Remy teases in passing on his way to the door.

"Remains to be seen. At least I don't have to worry about this guy taking off my head though. You and Rogue having some kind of a fight or what?" Bobby asks.

Remy scratches his chin, joking back. "No more than usual. Why?"

"Oh, she was IN. A. MOOD. the whole mission!" Bobby groans. "Wouldn't even sit down with us for lunch. Brother, you better go home with some chocolate and flowers and wear your good body armor."

Remy pauses a minute, his brow furrowed " … she seem off to you, Drake? You say she didn' eat lunch?"

"Oh she was off alright. Good luck, buddy." Bobby pats him sympathetically on the shoulder as a car pulls up on the drive and he walks out to meet it.

~ 0 days 0 hours 7 minutes 34 seconds ~

Gambit keeps his composure walking into the apartment, but he doesn't find her immediately upon his arrival.

"Rogue?"

The cats follow him, meowing on his heels as he crosses quickly to their bedroom. Empty.

He comes back out and looks up and sees the open skylight window. "Shit." Of course that's where she is.

Gambit walks out onto the roof.

Rogue is sitting on the ledge with her back to him and her feet dangling over the side, slouching under her crumpled gray hoodie.

If anyone else found their spouse sitting on the ledge of a building like this they might be a bit more alarmed, but this is Rogue. This is where she goes to feel safe. The question is why she's up here.

He takes a step toward her and some of the pebbles under his boot crunch. Rogue turns her head to him, alerted to his presence.

"Remy, Ah … stay back. Ah'm not in control."

He can hear it on her voice. Fear.

He pauses, then takes another step forward, but starts to feel the pull of her absorption and stops.

"Rogue … whatever dis is … let me help, chère." he soothes, trying to talk her down off the literal ledge.

She looks away, bowing her head into her hands. "Just … Ah need a minute ta calm down."

"Ok … sure dat's not somethin' I can help with?" he reasons gently.

"Um … " She moves ever so subtly and he knows she's fighting herself on the instinct to push off and take flight. To run. But she doesn't.

"Anna … jus' tell me what's goin' on. We'll get through it." he pleads softly.

She turns back to him meeting his eyes, swallows, then reaches into her pocket and slides a small, short white plastic stick out onto the ledge where he can see. She looks back up at him with puffy eyes.

Remy is frozen for a long moment, staring at the small device upon which two pink lines blaze brilliantly in the little window. It takes only a second to register what this is and what it means.

For so much of his life, the specter of a moment like this has haunted his worst nightmares. Not anymore. That was a different Remy. He's not afraid of this, not anymore, not with her. But the unexpectedness still renders him speechless.

His mouth moves to say something, anything … but all he can muster is, " … you … you're ...".

"Pregnant." she whispers.

Another long silence hangs between them.

" … but how? … I thought ..." he stumbles with more words, still confused.

She shrugs, eyes welling up again.

" … you're sure it's not a fals-" he starts.

*THWACK*

She slaps a handful of additional plastic sticks in various pinks, blues, and purples with all kinds of symbols and words on them onto the ledge next to the first one.

"Oh." he stands there stunned … amazed. This is real.

"Yeah." she sniffs, tears starting up again.

" … but … I don' understand?… you don't want dis?" he stares at her, not comprehending this reaction.

"Of course I do!" she spits at him in a flash of sudden anger. "That doesn't mean Ah get ta HAVE this. Ah can't … Ah … everythin', everyone Ah touch … all Ah do is cause them harm." she chokes out.

"Dat's not true." he insists firmly.

"It is." She sobs.

Suddenly he can't stand this distance between them. He walks toward her, even as she starts to siphon his energy and he fights not to double over from the pain.

"Stop! Remy, don't." she cries, jumping to a stand to back away from his approach. But as she absorbs him she starts to feel some of what he's feeling - the wonder, the joy, the love that's there. It's only a little spark, but it's something. And she finds it's enough and she can pull herself away from her fear for a second, just enough to get back in control.

Remy is out of breath and barely standing, but he reaches her and wraps her up in his arms and she buries herself there in his chest, holding on to him as tightly as she dares.

They stay like that for what seems an eternity, then he's kissing her hair and his hand is reaching under the oversized hoodie to ever so delicately graze her stomach with a sort of shyness that she's never seen in him before where her body is concerned.

She looks up at him and he down at her.

"Remy … this might not last …" she whispers, her voice measured and cautious.

He understands now.

This is an improbability of epic proportions and she's terrified of getting attached to the idea that this might actually work out somehow. Because the odds are bad. Because of what happened before.

He presses his forehead against hers and closes his eyes, " We don' know what tomorrow holds, chère. But today this is true. We made somethin' beautiful together. An' no matter what happens, no one can take dat away from us."

She closes her eyes also, her cheek slides against his, her lips find his, and she kisses him - saying all there is to say the best way she knows how.

They part by a fraction and she sighs at him, "Where would Ah be without you, Cajun?"

"Not knocked up?" he jokes with a devilish smirk.

She gives him a playful shove, scoffing with mild annoyance.

"Really though, what are we gonna do?" she asks, staring at the pile of positive pregnancy tests.

He follows her gaze. "Dunno 'bout you, chere, but I'm just gonna stand here in amazement that you can generate dat much pee." he continues to tease.

"Ah'm so glad ta know you're taking this seriously." she shakes her head and shoots him a good scowl as she gathers up her bizarre collection from the roof ledge. "Next time I barf, I sincerely hope it's on your shoes."

"Well I AM sorry ya feelin' so lousy." he offers, smoothing his fingers down her back in reconciliation.

She sighs again.

"It does seem a bit weird. Ah suppose the first thing we oughta do is talk to Hank." she reasons out, looking at the sticks again as she shoves them back into her pocket. "Hmmm, this one seems a bit glitchy. No way that's right." She says holding up a blue stick that reads "Pregnant 3+".

Remy shrugs. "Thankfully I'm no kind of expert in dis field. But yeah, we talk to Henry." he nods.

Rogue crosses her arms. "How's this gonna work? Ah can't go on missions like this. But I'm not ready to tell everyone yet … ya know … in case …" she trails off.

"So we don' tell anyone for a while, yeah? Maybe take a lil' sabbatical?" He wraps an arm around her shoulders as they head back inside. "It'll be fine, chère."

She grins at him, "Promise?"

"Promise." he answers.

The End

[Story continued in "But Here We Are"]