Disclaimer: Don't own X-Men, Never will apparently, lol. They are Marvel Property.

NOTICE: I've decided to do a series of one-shots. They've been prodding me too much lately lol

-UltimateGammy91

XXXXXX

Live and Let Go

Pain throbbed silently through his arms and legs while his own blood trickled like fountain water from his wounds. His skin and uniform was shredded, marred with deep cuts and bruises that left his skin throbbing in time with his racing heart. It was strange really, after all these years, these endless decades of time, he still winced. He still hissed painfully and tried his best to stop the blood from seeping through to stop the pain even though knew perfectly well that he would become completely healed again, eventually. In a couple of hours, his skin would heal without so much as a scar left as proof of ever being hurt. Yet he still reacted like an ordinary man. Like any other man that walked the streets and plagued the Earth, he reacted like a human being. He responded to pain as if he could die. A cynical chuckle escaped his blood-dried lips at the irony. He had lived so long that one would think he would be wiser by now to just leave his wounds alone and let them heal on their own. No, he continued to apply pressure to one of the deeper wounds that marred his left side. The warmth of fresh blood kept him warm in the freezing winter air as he trudged onwards. Stumbling in the dark, through the snow paved streets. He made his way slowly. His legs were stiff from the cold rather than the pain. He figured they had mixed together to form a limp in his slow walk at one point. The winter air caught the heat of his breath and turned each exhale to mist in the open air. However, despite all adversity, he trudged on with a clear mind. He had only one destination in mind and with his sharp sense of smell that had never been challenged for failure thus far, he knew that he was coming close. Only a few more blocks, he thought, not far at all.

Not minutes later he felt some feeling come back to his feet as the pain that blistered there began to ease. At least he was starting to heal. He turned onto another street until he came to a T-junction in the road while before him stood a street of three-story loft apartment houses. Each building was sectioned off by narrow gaps between walls and each was enclosed by black metal gates. Though he dared not to admit it, he felt relief wash over him like a healing remedy though he stood bloody and beaten in the snow.

That was when hesitance decided to stifle his relief.

He had come to a stand-still before one of the identical looking limestone and brick buildings. Half of him was contemplating whether to take another step while another part of him was running back over a little more than a decade of memories. The first half of the past decade had been a little happier with the exception of the odd argument or strike of trouble. The second half was quite the opposite. Arguments and more troubles than he could remember outnumbered the happier times ten to one all because of one simple thing, or more, one significant person that resided in this very building.

He gave a growl of a sigh that came out half-choked. He had sustained some blows to his windpipe that had made it difficult to breathe for a little while but, thankfully, it was nearly mended completely. Suddenly, her face shifted from the shadows of his few unscathed memories. Her emerald eyes flashing brightly across his mind. She had been there through the good and bad times. She had laughed with him through the good days, matched his anger and frustration with her own on the bad days and had stayed silent when silence was all that was needed between them. She had also, on many occasions, left him to the dogs. He had never been able to do that to her in return of course. Not to his little girl. They had hurt each other so many times, said things they probably shouldn't or even mean in the first place. Though he couldn't be sure of her feelings or thoughts, he felt like they had a bond as thick as blood. Though they shared no blood relation, there was something of that kind of thickness, that kind of strength and endurance that had kept them close. Like family, they did things to each other that only one of the same kin could forgive or, in their case, hold grudge. Eventually however, he had felt that grudge wane and fray until it was next to nothing but a near-forgotten figment of his past; their past. Now, here he stood, not twenty feet away from where she lay, asleep and unaware of how close he was now after all these years.

"Three years…"

The realisation rang softly through his mind like a ghostly echo. It had been three years since they'd actually seen each other. Nearly four since they'd spoken last. The absence of talking or casual visits hadn't been without reason of course but those reasons seemed to be all too repetitive and petty now that he thought about it. They jumbled together at the back of his mind into a twisted mess of reasons and excuses, hurt and distrust-

He shook himself physically, causing the snow flakes that clung to his form to break away and take to the cold air. He realised the numbness that was forming in the muscles of his legs and arms. With a characteristic grunt and a curt shake of his head, the stocky man took the three steps to the gate. With little difficulty he was standing at the front door and, slowly, pressing his callused index finger to the buzzer. He pressed it several times, growing all the more aggravated despite his earlier thoughts as he waited impatiently. Finally, there was movement. His sharp senses caught onto the sound of footfall and the murmur of hushed voices from above. He didn't have to wait long before the intercom system let loose the familiar voice he was hoping to hear. Her voice was muffled by the system and a little husky from her obvious sudden consciousness.

"Hello?"

Logan didn't know why it happened then but his throat seemed to clog up and no words could escape him. He blinked several times, listening to her ongoing call for reply and her growing frustration. It was just…

"Three Years…" He reminded himself.

"Hello?" He heard an impatient and disgruntled growl that, even in pain and latent circumstances, made Logan smirk. "Is someone even there? Hello-!"

Her voice was suddenly joined by a second, followed by the sound of yawning and grumbling.

"Maybe it's a bunch a' kids foolin' around, chére. Come on, amour, go back t' bed-"

His eyes widened at the familiar thick Cajun accent that was most definitely male.

"At Three-forty-fahve in the mornin'?"

Logan was certain the guy had shrugged at the idea plausibly.

"Why not? Kids do anyt'ing dese days..."

The woman's familiar huff of annoyance didn't surpass him before she retorted.

"Sometahmes ah worry bout ya, Cajun. Really, ya sound lahke an' old man the way ya ramblin' on-"

"Rogue?"

Silence erupted as soon as the name escaped his lips. He waited, waited for the intercom to turn off, waited for her to speak. He waited a full thirty seconds before a reply was given. Her voice was barely audible in its shocked state.

"L-Logan?"

Logan gave a low grunt as he slumped up against the brick wall beside the intercom. His wounds were still bleeding but it was more the cold that was beginning to get to him. Finally, he pressed the intercom button again and spoke gruffly. He hoped the anxiety that had been building up inside him didn't escape as he did so.

"Y-yeah kid. Look, I don't expect you t' jus'-"

The definite sound of the intercom connection being cut dead rang through his ears. He hadn't been far from expecting that reaction. He had allowed himself to hope a little maybe but maybe it was too much to expect. However, before he could pull himself off the wall and make his way back to the streets the sound of footfall returned. The only difference was that these footsteps (pair of footsteps) were quicker, more frantic this time. He turned around to face the dark wooden door and watched it with a half-puzzled half-reproachful frown. Two minutes later, his nose picked up on a familiar pair of scents. One, feminine; vanilla mixed with lavender. The other, masculine; musky, cigarettes, spices, leather and…mixed with vanilla and lavender. He frowned slightly at that conclusion but wasn't left to think about it as the door latches came undone. The door was flung open quickly to reveal two figures outlined by the bright light in the hallway. Logan squinted briefly as the light reflected stingingly against his sensitive eyes. It was short lived however as his gaze caught sight of the shorter of the two figures.

A girl- no, he corrected himself silently, a young woman stood before him. Her full lips were left a gape for a moment, her emerald green eyes wide with disbelief and shock as she stared at him. Though it was less than a half minute that they stood there, staring and in her case, gaping, it was enough for him to catch a glimpse of the changes. Her hair was longer, no longer dead straight and short-cut but thick with gentle waves. It was obvious she had hurriedly pulled most of her auburn waves into a tail on the way down. Meanwhile, like before, those familiar shock-white streaks framed her heart-shaped face. She looked a little taller, he mused, probably a good inch or two or maybe it was just the stretch of time that seemed to have made her look taller. She was still very slim, as she had always been, but not scrawny. She was a far cry of the girl he had practically raised since her early teenage years. However, that was when something else caught his attention. Though the long pyjama shirt she wore was loose and a little too big for her, there was nothing that could disguise the bump under her crossed arms. A baby bump.

Logan could only gulp silently and hold his tongue as Rogue spoke up. Her voice was a half-rasp thanks to her obvious drowsiness and disbelief.

"Logan? What are ya doing- Oh mah gawd, what- what happened t' ya?"

He hadn't expected that kind of welcome. Not from her at least. Those emeralds she called eyes were suddenly and most undeniably full of genuine concern that even he could not deny. They widened in alarm and honestly, even if it had not been her he had decided to visit in the dead of the night, he didn't blame her for her reaction. He probably looked no better than a bloodied-up corpse on a doormat. Aside from the fact that he wasn't dead, that's what he was. He realised as this ran through his mind that she was waiting for him to answer. They were both waiting for an answer. He cleared his throat roughly before he spoke.

"Look- I don't expect you to let me in but-"

Before he could finish his sentence, again, he found himself being cut off by her actions. Without a word, she pushed the Cajun aside and out of the way of the door (practically nocking the wind out of him, to Logan's amusement) and set a hand on his bloodied shoulder and pulled him into the narrow hallway. The door closed quietly behind them as Rogue led him down the hallway while the Cajun bemusedly followed in tow behind.

"Sit down."

She ordered as soon as they had turned at the end of the hallway and into what, after Rogue turned on the lights, was their kitchen. The walls were a summery yellow while most of the furniture was either mahogany wood or metal. Logan sat himself down on one of the metal bar stools near the kitchen bar bench. He hissed a little at the pain it caused his spine to bend it so but spoke nothing of it. He was sure he heard some vertebrae click sickeningly too. Rogue, he suspected, had heard it too and scolded him lightly.

"Carefully."

He gave a half grunt of reply as he made himself as comfortable as he could. Once she was sure he wasn't going anywhere (at least that's what he assumed), she pointed an authority-bound finger at him.

"Stay there a minute while ah go get the first aid kit. Don't move. Ah don't want ya'll drippin' blood over mah floor."

He gave a half scoff and nodded. She didn't look at him as she left but Logan wasn't given a chance to decide whether it was out of avoidance, as the Cajun had decided to follow her into the hallway and close the door behind him. There was a cautious tone in his voice as he called her name in rough whisper. He made little notion that he was aware that Logan was catching every word as he began to question her.

"Rogue- chérie y' sure it be right lettin' him in here-"

He could practically see her scowl through the walls as she hissed back in a harsh whisper.

"Remy! He was bleedin' on our front door! If ya'll think ah'm gonna send-"

"Oui, I know mais, what if whatever scratched him up follows him here? We can't make a tail-turn move outta here in y' condition-"

Rogue gave an aggravated growl and a few moments of silence erupted before anyone spoke again. Though he couldn't see, he was sure that the Cajun's words had struck its intended blow. A half-hearted sigh escaped her before she decided to reply. Her voice was gentle yet determined.

"He wouldn't leave a trail, Remy. He's always been good at hidin' his tracks."

It was the Cajun's turn to give a deep sigh before he spoke again.

"Chére, he's-"

"He wouldn't do that t' meh! No matter what ah've done t' him in the past, ah know he would never put mah life on the line lahke that. He…"

Logan hadn't expected such a retort from her. Not for his sake. Her silence however, humbled him to the point of eaves dropping just to hear for sure if she meant it. She gave a deep sigh before speaking again.

"Remy, he wouldn't put us in danger to settle a grudge. Logan isn't like that."

The sound of movement of which Logan could only guess brought the two in a close embrace as a couple of hushed French words escaped from Remy's lips. He wasn't familiar with the language but even Logan could understand them to be words of apology and reassurance. The undeniable sound of light kissing came shortly afterwards before the sound of footfall returned. A few seconds later, the door to the kitchen swung open and the Cajun stepped back into the room. He moved to the wall beside the door with his gaze set primarily on Logan. For some reason the young man suddenly reminded him of Scott Summers in the way he eyed him sternly with his back to the wall and his arms crossed. After a moment or two, he spoke a belated greeting.

"Wolverine."

Logan gave a short nod in return.

"Gambit."

A moment passed, the Scott-Summers-not impression disappearing completely, as a smirk played across Remy's lips. He raised an inquiring brow at him. Those familiar demon eyes glowed even with the absence of shadows.

"Did y' fancy a tussle with a pack o' dogs, homme?"

This time Logan did roll his eyes. He gave a gruff snort as he retorted cynically.

"More like a tussle with an overgrown cat, Cajun."

There wasn't a doubt in Logan's mind that the Cajun knew what he really meant when he said 'cat' but he still gave him a long-drawn look, as if he was certifying it. He kept a brow raised at him as he replied while his smirk had disappeared again in the return of his serious demeanour.

"Is he in de city still?"

Logan shook his head. He had made sure to put as much distance as possible between himself and Sabretooth's head and the rest of his body when he left Paris. Remy nodded in understanding when he explained this shortly. However, he didn't chuckle or make some sort of joke out of it like he expected the usually charismatic man before him would. Even in the midst of serious danger this thief had joked endlessly. It was a fair blow to his assumptions about the man, but then, he had exceeded all assumptions the moment he stood before him with Rogue at his side. Logan was sure that the Cajun had been interrogating him to know if whatever had had a go at him would not follow and wind up at their front door. However, what surprised him most (or maybe he wasn't quite use to the fact) was that he was protecting not only himself but Rogue as well as-

The gentle thuds of footfalls ended the silence that they had fallen into and not a few moments later, Rogue entered the room again. She placed a white box on the bench top opened it quickly. Her fingers rummaged around the contents of the box as she began making orders at the Cajun.

"Remy can ya go get some towels from the laundry an' that basin under the sink?"

Remy didn't have to be told twice. He left after giving Logan a cautious glance. Logan would've grinned amusedly if he weren't being looked at by Rogue. It was a couple of moments of silence before Rogue spoke up. She was checking one of the more serious wounds on his shoulder. He winced a little but stifled it easily.

"Sabretooth, huh?"

Logan nodded.

"He won't be makin' any pit-stops here, if that's what you're worried about."

He spared her the details, expecting her to force them out of him but she didn't ask for any. No doubt, she was sure to get it out of her boyfriend…or husband. The thought of him being under either of those titles was enough to make him uneasy and for that old sense of protectiveness to rise from the ashes. He didn't like Gambit. Never would, probably, but he had to remind himself that it wasn't up to him to decide or judge. It didn't matter. He had no authority over her life but that hadn't stopped him from being curious. An FBI agent that had owed him a favour had sent him news about a year back that she was here in London. Living a normal life, he had said. He hadn't mentioned that she was living with a guy or expecting. At that thought, he turned his gaze (while Rogue was distracted) to the bump that protruded from under her nightshirt and robe. He didn't have a clue about pregnancy and its antics but he was sure she was close to her due date. It was while he was lost in these thoughts that Rogue turned back to him from the aid kit and caught him staring. She spoke, causing his gaze to shift away as if stung.

"Can ya stand up for a second? That wound on ya side's still bleeding."

He stood wordlessly. Five minutes of silence passed before Remy returned with a plastic basin full of warm water and a couple of towels. He placed them on the bench carefully, earning him a peck on the cheek from Rogue, before moving over to the wall again. He sat himself down on the floor, his back to the wall, with a deck of cards shuffling through his fingers. The flapping noise was the only thing that made it known that he was there, otherwise, he remained completely silent. When the shuffling stopped, some ten minutes later, both Rogue and Logan turned to find Remy was lightly snoozing against the wall. Rogue smiled warmly. A small chuckle hummed through her before she spoke amusedly.

"He's been sleepin' only a few hours a night for the past couple o' months."

Logan had to smirk at the Cajun's torments. Not the sentiment.

"Been goin' out t' get you pickles an' ice cream all hours of the night, eh?"

Rogue nodded as her gaze turned back to Remy. He looks so adorable to her, his head turned down towards his shoulder as he snored gently. The deck of cards was still locked in one of his hands as he slumbered on. She bit down lightly on her lower lip in a feeble smile. Logan noticed the slight glimmer of guilt in her eyes, so he spoke, hoping to end it.

"Is he being good t' you?"

Rogue turned at his words abruptly. It was as if he had spoken something utterly crazy and her eyes widened for a moment before she replied.

"He's always been good t' meh, Logan. Ah don't know how ah'd cope without him around."

She suddenly bowed her head as she turned back to the bench and began to rummage around for something in the kit. There was the slight pang of remorse in her voice as she continued softly. If he wasn't with super-senses, he probably wouldn't have heard her she spoke so softly.

"I don't tell him enough, but he's the world t' meh."

Logan, for possibly the millionth time in that night, found himself surprised by her words. Where was the all too defensive and cold-tongued girl that used to close herself off from others? He remembered, in the past, that she was never one to let a man get to her, let alone admit that one was the world to her. Logan turned his gaze back to the sleeping Cajun on the floor. What had this man done to deserve such love and adoration? He shook his head lightly. "Must've been somethin'-" Logan stifled a wince as he felt the antiseptic sting from the wound on his side. Rogue muttered an apology before removing the antiseptic-stained cloth away from the wound. She pulled out a needle and medical thread shortly after.

"Knowin' ya, these should fade by mornin', but this one hasn't stopped bleedin'. These stitches should dissolve quickly too."

Logan gave a curt nod before she struck with the needle. It was nothing. Like a bee sting or splinter. However, despite the smallness of the medical procedure she was doing, Logan felt as if there were any time for it, now was the time to speak. She might not be so forthcoming and calm if they talked about their problems another day. With a rough grunt, he began the impending doom.

"How long have you been here kid?"

Rogue gave a small sigh as she continued to stitch. She sat perched on the bench chair as she worked. Being pregnant, if she attempted to kneel or sit on the floor, she'd be stuck there until she got help.

"Two years."

"Where were you before here?" There wasn't much point in hiding the fact he kept track of how long it had been since they last met. She'd probably have guessed he'd been keeping track of her anyhow.

"New Orleans."

Logan gave a curt grunt of acknowledgement as his gaze turned back to Remy. He narrowed his gaze as he nodded towards him and spoke.

"He the reason you were there?"

Rogue nodded silently before turning back to the kit again. She took her time to face him again but spoke as she did so.

"And he's the reason we left. His family's-"

"An elite crime family known as the Thieves Guild?"

Rogue turned her head sharply to meet his gaze. Though her expression barely changed from its calm, sincere look, he knew she hadn't expected that reaction. She raised one brow at him before he answered.

"I've had a few run ins with him in the past. I know his background."

Rogue stared for a couple of moments before easing her inquisitive brow. She shrugged as if it wasn't such a surprise anymore before replying.

"So he told meh. Did ya know he got kicked out o' there b'cause o' meh?"

Logan shook his head but his mind protested to know why. He knew the business the Thieves Guild had in New Orleans. He knew their only real enemy (excluding the authorities) was the rival Guild of the Assassins. There was a mountain of history behind that feud that travelled through out his extended lifetime and continued to raise havoc to this moment. There wasn't a doubt in his mind that that they had something to do with these two departing the Thieves' and Assassins territory. Rogue was brief but explained the long and short of it after he asked why it was her fault.

"His ex-wife, Belladonna- she's a part of the Assassins Guild. She put a price on his head when…well, when she found out meh an' Remy were getting married."

Logan had to try not to stop breathing as soon as the words finally escaped her mouth. He took a quick glance at her left hand and surely enough, there was a gold wedding band followed by what could only be a large diamond engagement band. He stared at it a good ten seconds before speaking. He cleared his throat roughly before the words slipped out.

"Didn't expect you to be the 'settlin' down' kind, kid. Him-"

He nodded towards Remy who snored a little louder.

"Didn't think that was even a part of his vocabulary."

She actually chuckled at his words. No angry retorts or hateful scowls. No, she actually found his words amusing. She had finished stitching up his wound and was now cleaning up the dried blood around his face. Most of his cuts, apart from the one on his side and a couple on his arms, were already healed. She smiled lightly as she replied gently.

"Yeah well, ah didn't think ah'd be able t' touch someone let alone…"

She stopped, blushing a little before she continued.

"Ah'm happy, Logan. An' we did things the way ah wanted t'. Well, except for the shot-gun wedding we ended up having b'cause his ex happened t' want our heads on a couple o' silver platters. Apart from that, ah have no regrets."

Logan shared her look of amusement lightly. It was strange this pleasant conversation they were suddenly carrying out. Not unwelcomed of course but strange. Logan was stopped in his thoughts when Rogue suddenly let out a slight yelp of surprise. Panic highlighted his eyes as he turned his gaze to find her clutching her swelled abdomen.

"Rogue?"

He stared at her for a couple of moments, stone faced. When she looked up at him, she gave a bright smile and chuckled.

"Nothin' t' worry about."

She patted her stomach affectionately. A warm, motherly smile spread across her lips as she continued.

"He's jus' kickin' it out there that he's here an' listening."

Logan raised a sceptical brow at her before uttering one word.

"He?"

Rogue turned her attention back to him again. Her smile faded a little but it didn't disappear as she nodded and replied.

"It was an accident-"

"You mean you two didn't plan havin' this-"

"No! No, this…this baby was planned. Ah meant, we found out by accident that we were expectin' a boy. Ah was havin' an ultrasound at the hospital and Remy was with meh, the file was on the bench an' ah thought ah'd take a lil' peek."

"That doesn't sound like an accident t' me."

They shared matching grins before she continued.

"Ah didn't see what the sex of the baby was but Remy caught meh lookin'."

She laughed lightly. She had finished helping him get cleaned up (as far as the wounds went) and sat on the bench stool while he took a seat on the opposite one.

"He was so annoyed with meh. Thought ah'd lied t' him when ah said ah didn't want t' know an' that ah was lyin' when ah said ah didn't know. Then, that afternoon when ah got home from work-"

He wondered what type of work an ex-X-Woman and mutant super hero/villain did while trying to blend into normal society.

"-He appeared in the kitchen, smirkin' his head off an'- after a considerable amount of "gloating", he goes "Oh come on, chére, y' know it's a boy!" (1)

She actually giggled with amusement. Logan didn't know what was more amusing, her giggling or the mental image of Gambit's face falling when he realised his mistake. He decided it was the latter.

"His face fell completely off when ah burst out askin' "We're havin' a boy?!" Ya shoulda seen it…"

She trailed off as the memory continued to make her smile softly. He found this more gratifying than any torture the Cajun might suffer. She was happy. He could see that more clearly now than he had when she'd said it. "Ah'm happy Logan." He believed it.

There was a, dare he say it, more comfortable silence between them. She packed the first aid kit away soundly and turned to pick up the blood-stained basin of luke-warm water but Logan was taking it out of her hands before she could lift it. She let him take it wordlessly to the kitchen sink before telling him to stay put while she got him some clothes. When she returned, she handed him a pair of track pants and a large black T-shirt. Logan eyed them suspiciously and glanced over at Remy. He doubted anything Remy wore would fit him.

"He's never worn these and they don't fit anyhow."

He took them wordlessly before slipping down the hallway to the bathroom. He dressed quickly. The aches of his body were minium and the bandages helped a little in keeping the blood-spillage minimum. He checked his face in the mirror. There wasn't anything to show that he had been in a bloody fight. When he left the bathroom he stopped about mid-way down the hallway as Rogue and Remy's voices caught his ears from inside the kitchen.

"Did y' have t' tell him about dat?"

Logan smirked as she gave a sigh that clearly meant she was rolling her eyes at him before she replied.

"Did ya have t' fake sleepin'?"

"Wit' dat homme in mon house? Course chére!"

He was sure she rolled her eyes again before she replied.

"Don't be such a baby."

"M'not!"

"Yes ya are. Now could ya'll go an' set up the pull-out bed in the front room?"

Remy gave a defeated sigh that, Logan figured, was the symbolic cry of a husband absolutely whipped by his wife. There was a resigned tone in his voice as he replied classically.

"Yes chére."

The sound of lips gently smacking against a cheek was heard before Logan stepped into the room. Remy glowered at him lightly before stepping past him and heading towards the front room of the apartment. His mumbled cussing in French and English told Logan exactly where he was, even after Remy had left. He rolled his eyes. He pitied Rogue's son already.

"What are ya rollin' ya eyes at?"

He turned to find Rogue standing before him with a pillow and a rug in her arms. She scowled at him, as if knowing what he was thinking, before thrusting the pillow and rug into his arms.

"He's jus' tired, Logan. If ah caught him cussin' lahke that around mah son, ah'd skin him alive. Ya'll can be sure o' that."

Logan didn't doubt that nor did he discourage it. He followed Rogue to the front room where a black couch had been unfolded into a large fold-out bed. Remy was still cussing as he stepped away from the bed and moved towards his wife. As he did so, she pinched his arm and, if Logan's ears were deceiving him-not, she hissed something about 'Babies can hear their parents voices before they're born." He stopped muttering after he finished easing the pain in his arm.

Logan tossed the pillow and rug onto the bed before turning around. He raised his hands up in light defence as he spoke gruffly.

"Look, you two don't need t' set me up for the night. An hour or two, I'll be fine-"

His insisting (and Remy's attempt to agree) was put to a stop by Rogue as she replied incredulously.

"Look, Logan, its fine. Ya can stay here as long as ya need. An' if he-"

She elbowed her husband in the ribs, making him grunt painfully as he scowled at Logan.

"-starts tellin' ya otherwise. Ya have mah full permission t' smack him up the head- so long as ya don't break it."

While Remy gave his wife an incredulous look, Logan couldn't suppress a chuckle of amusement. "Oh yeah. She's happy alright." Remy grumbled something about it being late- obviously dismissing the subject as a lost cause, before taking his wife's shoulder and pulling her towards the door. She followed at first, throwing a goodnight over her shoulder to Logan, but stopped half-way out the door to disengage herself from Remy and walk quickly to Logan's side. Before he could react, she had carefully wrapped her arms around his shoulder and pulled him close into a gentle hug. Logan took a few moments to react before he returned it lightly. In that moment all their problems of the past seemed long forgotten and under the rug. Things seemed a little brighter now that he could live and let go of the past but before he could do that, two words escaped her lips that left him speechless.

"Ah'm sorry."

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Oh my god that took forever to write. I just really felt the urge to write this. Hope it wasn't too boring or tormenting for you. Anyway, review and tell me what you thought!

I'm not totally satisfied with the ending but I'm hoping its enough to settle their problems. Sometimes problems don't need to be talked about. A simple apology can suffice sometimes and that's what I think these two needed.

Okay, if you want to know, basically Rogue and Logan have had a lot of family-sort-of-fall-outs with each other and Rogue (for some reason lol) runs away. She runs into Remy, he's the only one who can touch her and they get married and now are expecting their first kid.

-UltimateGammy91

(1) In this one episode of 'Friend', the same happens to Ross and Rachel. Ross thinks Rachel took a peek and knew they were having a girl when in fact, he was wrong all along. LOL I loved that episode.