I do not own X-Men: Evolution and/or Marvel in any way, shape, or form. Please do not sue, for it will inevitably just be a waste of time and money in trying to find a suitable legal representative. Thank you.

Important A/N: Well, it had to come sooner or later. There's nothing else to write. Yep, I'm talking about the end. It's here, and I promise you, it was totally unexpected! I would've told you earlier if I had known. I hope everyone enjoyed the fic. I loved writing it! You guys are the greatest! I love you bunches! – passes out hugs – Thanks for the great pointers and reviews! See you around the site soon!

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Professor Xavier cleared away the mist on his window that obstructed his view, and from his cozy little office, he watched as Rogue and Remy cuddled together on a bench in Ororo's lovely Japanese garden. The wild triplets were rolling around in the grass, yelling and chasing each other. The sight was adorable. It had been nearly six years since the whippersnapper's births. He remembered back to a time when Rogue and Remy hated each other's guts. Rogue was under extreme pressure to be the perfect mother, and Gambit wasn't helping at all. She was provided with the medication she needed, and Remy, realizing his faults and mistakes, began helping out more, doing a much better job of being a parent. Everything after that had been smooth sailing.

The old, balding man's grin enlarged when he caught view of his goddaughter, Jaimie. Oh, how cute and lovable the only girl of the bunch was—when she wasn't screaming, throwing a fit, or vying for attention. She was extremely spoiled, especially by her father who let her get away with everything, and couldn't take a scolding. She reminded everyone of her mother. She had auburn hair and green pupils that hazed over and became a dark shade of red when she was angered in the slight. She also had her mother's bad temper, her rebelliousness.

Chandler was the sweet, tranquil one. Unlike his other siblings, the little boy had been born with blonde hair; a surprise and mystery to everyone at the Institute! He had inherited his father's eyes and both his parents' intelligence. The X-Men would often find him curled up in a corner, reading or coloring quietly. He was the nicest, most polite boy you could ever meet.

Lastly was Aubin, the first born and "Robin Hood" of the family. The boy loved any kind of danger and challenge, like his father, and hated weakness. Even if he fell and scraped up his whole knee, he would not cry. He often imitated his grandfather, Logan, and his mother was beginning to worry about him. Out of the three, Aubin was the strongest and loved to roughhouse and wrestle with his uncles. He looked like a mix of both his parents; he had his auburn hair and green-on-black eyes that flashed eerily in the dark. Lately, he and his younger sister were becoming more and more involved in planning and mischief-making. They were often called "The Dynamic Duo". Sometimes, the two could even persuade their other brother to join them.

And now, there would be a new little one coming. The LeBeau clan.

'Ah,' Charles contemplated. 'More mood swings ahead. Better pull out the aspirin.'

-

"I do believe this belongs to you, Rogue..."

Scott Summers, team leader, role model, loving husband to Jean Grey, and father to newborn Rachel Summers, held up a little boy of five years by the collar of his striped shirt. Through all the mud and grime, Marie recognized the boy as her oldest son, Aubin. She glared at him. Her hands wandered to her hips, making her look even more menacing. "What did ya do now?" she asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

"Nothin', mère. Ah swear. Cross m' heart, hope t' die. Stick a needle in m' eye."

"Yeah right. Ya must think Ah'm stupid, huh? What have Ah told ya about lyin'? Lahke Ah'd believe that fo' a moment. Ha! What'd he do, Scotty?"

Scott chuckled, handing the boy over to his mother who held him tightly under her arm. "I found the little guy in Ororo's flowerbed... digging up her tulips and making a mess of things. He wasn't the only one, though. Two of his accomplices fled the scene of the crime." He began walking away, and suddenly turned back to say, "You better watch out for Storm. I already see the clouds gathering together. A heavy spring shower is on its way." Cyclops then disappeared, leaving her with the boy who squiggled and squirmed, trying to escape his mother's expected rage.

"What do ya have ta say fo' yaself?"

"Ah'm sorry?" he asked innocently.

"Uh-huh. Ya're so lucky Ah don't spank," she said, hosting him up and slinging him over her shoulder. "But just ta let ya know, ya daddy's gonna hear 'bout this little incident." She smiled when she heard him sigh dejectedly. Using Ms. Marvel's permanently absorbed powers, Rogue jumped into the air and flew forward, searching for her other two children.

Not paying attention to where she was going, Rogue accidentally knocked into Logan. She fell back, looking up. And it was a good thing that she did. In his arms, he held an equally dirty and guilty Chandler and Jaimie, both with impish, apologetic smiles on their faces after being caught. "Found 'em in the Danger Room, playing with the controls," he growled.

Jaimie crossed her arms over her chest. "Aw... Grandpa Logie, y' weren't s'posed t' tell mère."

"Don't call me that, kid."

Rogue grabbed the two away from the Wolverine. "Sorry, Logan. Ah promise, Ah'll take care o' them." She turned away and stomped up the stairs, whispering harshly along the way, "Ya'll are in so much trouble. First, Ah'm gonna give ya a nice, long bath since ya stink ta high Heaven. Then ya, meh, and ya Daddy are gonna have a talk 'bout ya behavior as of late."

-

"Aw, chère. Don't be so hard on dem. After all, dey're jus' chil'en."

"They're demon spawn!"

Rogue and Remy stood in their room beside the triplets', discussing a suitable punishment for the kids. The Louisianan believed that they should get off, this once. Rogue disagreed. She thought that they should be taught a lesson, or else they would never respect authority.

"Ya're such a softy, LeBeau!"

"Remy is not, chère."

"Are too!"

"Non."

"Ya are. Ya always let them get away with everythin'. Haven't ya noticed? They fear me, they respect meh, but they could care less 'bout the punishment ya give 'em 'cause it's too easy. Ya a softy," she repeated.

"Rogue, Remy's tired o' dis. We always arguin' 'bout somethin'. Is dis 'ow y' gonna be durin' de whole o' y' pregnancy?"

"If ya could be a better father, maybe we wouldn't have so many arguments..."

"That's it. Remy's sick an' tired hearin' y' complain all de time." He grabbed the keys to his motorcycle and fled the room, leaving Rogue standing there, by herself.

"Well," she called after him, "Ah'm tired o' hearin' ya too!"

The engine of his mobile bike revved before he sped off into the morning dawn. She screamed, groaning inwardly.

The triplets poked their head in. "Mère, where's père goin'?"

"Jus' on a little drive, kids. He should be back soon," she answered. She didn't want the kids to worry over their father. "Now, go brush ya teeth and wash ya faces. Then hop inta bed and I might consider readin' ya a story. But that's only if ya can hurry. Ya were supposed ta be in bed by eight, remember?" Rogue ushered them back into their room, helping them get ready for the night.

'Ah hope he'll be okay,' she thought as she pulled out a book and began reading.

-

The next morning, Rogue awakened to an empty space on her king-sized mattress. She was saddened by her husband's inconsideration for her feelings. Marie harrumphed before checking the time—twelve o'clock; she had slept late this morning—and getting up, wrapping herself in a robe. She bounded down the stairs, surprised to see her children already up and about, watching Saturday morning cartoons.

"Well, how do ya do?"

"Mornin' mère. Auntie Jean got us dressed. Like it?" Jaimie asked, twirling around in a pink, frilly dress that her aunt had bought her a few months ago.

Rogue detested the dress and had refused to let her daughter wear it. And Jean had gone behind her back and secretly picked it out. But Rogue decided to be nice, not wanting Jaimie's self-esteem to lower any. She replied, "It looks great, sweetie. Especially on ya. But do ya know where Daddy is? Mommy needs ta have a talk with him..."

Chandler spoke, "Père left early dis morning."

"Yeah! He said he's goin' somewhere wit' Uncle Johnny!" Aubin stated excitedly.

"And," Jaimie added, "dat he won't be 'ome 'till late."

'It's our anniversary, fo' goodness' sakes! And he decides ta take a road trip! He didn't even leave a card or nothin'. Ah'm goin' ta kill that Remy Etienne LeBeau..."

"Mère, y' and père aren't goin' t' get a divorce—"

"—like Amy Yang's parents? Are you?" Aubin finished for his brother.

"O' course not," she said. The tragic looks on her kids' faces made her sigh sorrowfully. She patted their heads, trying to explain her predicament in laymen's terms. "Ah'm not mad at ya père. Jus' disappointed, is all. But don't ya worry ya little heads over it. Daddy and Mommy will be just fahne." 'Ah'm gonna strangle him until he has only one gasp o' air left...'

-

Remy strolled into his and Rogue's room around eleven o'clock at night. All the lights were turned off and shadows devoured the suite. Usually, his wife didn't go to bed so early—unless she was pissed off and didn't want to face the world until the next morning or whenever she woke up. He hoped Rogue had just gone to bed and hadn't fallen asleep yet. Quietly, he crept over to the bed to lay a hand on her shoulder, but was surprised when he realized she wasn't there.

The lights flickered on. "Remy."

"Chère."

"Where were ya?" she questioned. "Ah can't believe ya would jus' forget 'bout our anniversary lahke that! And ya scared the kids half ta death! They were askin' meh questions—questions Ah should never be asked! Ones like: are ya gonna have a divorce, or, is père leaving for ever? Did he lie to us?... What'd ya have ta say fo' yaself?"

"Shut up and kiss dis fool." He grabbed her, pulling her into an embrace, and shoved his tongue down her throat. She didn't fight. Instead, she shed her robe, now just in a pair of panties and a bra, and fell limp in his arms. She was subdued, under his charming spell. The kiss became more intense. They tripped and stumbled, landing on their bed. He laid little kisses on her neck, like fluttering butterflies. Finally, they stopped rolling around, him on top of her, trying to catch his breath as he was out of air.

"Remy loves y'."

"Then why weren't ya here?" she asked breathily.

"Remy was out gettin' y' a gift."

"Can Ah see it?"

"One moment, chérie. Y' gotta be patient." From behind his back, he pulled out a box of chocolates and flowers.

"That's it?" she asked. "Five dollar presents?"

"Non. Dere be mo'. Just wait and see, mon chère."

He made her close her eyes as he set up a small card table with scented candles and a bottle of champagne. Gambit led her over to a chair and sat her down. He then grabbed a stool, sitting by her feet, and began to massage them, slowly making his way up her leg. He gently ran his fingers against her skin.

"Remy," she laughed. "Stop! Ya know Ah'm ticklish."

"Oui, chère. Remy knows."

After a relaxing forty-five minutes of on and off massaging and French kissing, Remy led Rogue out onto the balcony—once she was clothed and covered—where they looked up at the sky. It was a fairly quiet night. The sound of crickets chirping and flies buzzing about was peaceful somehow. He held her tight in his arms and pointed upwards. Slowly, a flashing blimp floated by, the words: "Rogue, j'aime vous aime aucun autre. Nous avons été signifiés pour être ensemble. Accepterez-vous notre sort (I love you like no other. We were meant to be together. Will you accept fate)?" flashing past.

She gasped. She was astonished even further when Remy got down on one knee and slipped a ring on her finger. This one was much bigger and more beautiful then the simple one they had bought when they had eloped. He opened his mouth to talk. "Dis time, it'll be a real weddin'... With all y' friends and family there. We can redo our vows, chérie. This marriage will work. I love y'. Y' love m'. So, will y' take dis Ragin' Cajun t' be y' husband? Again?"

"O' course Ah will. And, Ah know Ah've never really said it that much, but Ah really, truly want ya ta know that Ah love ya with all mah heart."

"Même ici (Same here)."

They kissed again, under the moonlight and the stars, dancing to a song of their own—a song only they knew... that only their hearts knew.

- So, that's it. I'm really going to miss you guys. I hope you like the descriptions of the kids and their personalities. I'm probably going to do another ROMY fic soon, or finish unfinished fics under my penname. Please review this chapter. I want to hear how you liked it. Well, see you on the flipside. xmengirlzrule signing out (for the last time) -