Adrian: 'Allo! How are you all on this most wonderful of days? At least, I hope it's a most wonderful day given that you could be reading this at any given time...but, whatever. This is the beginning of a beautiful one-shot that may or may not develop into a series (although it's more likely than not). I call it: The Fatherhood Chronicles. Basically, stories about Gambit and his...difficulties in raising children. It also could be called, "Now I know how Wolverine felt." Just for the record, for Gambit's energy-form, think New Sun, but more glow-y and with hair. And mutants and humans coexist peacefully in this story. It's now "humutant" society.

Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I don't own X-Men: Evolution.

The Fatherhood Chronicles: A Few (No) Good Men

Remy LeBeau wasn't quite sure when it had happened (or even when it had started, for that matter). All he knew was that one day he had walked into the kitchen and found his daughter looking...older. More...womanly. The mutant superhero known as Gambit had stopped, frozen, and done a double-take to make sure his eyes hadn't deceived him. But, alas, it was meant to be. Somehow, in the past sixteen years of raising his daughter, Na'ilah – his pride and joy – had turned from the adorable, cherub-faced, green-eyed little baby...into this. She had breasts for crying out loud! When did that even happen?

The shock of the realization turned out to be way too much for Remy to handle, and he fell to the floor with a large 'thud'.

When the red-eyed Cajun awoke, he found three pairs of eyes hovering over him. Two of them green and one of them red and black, much like his own.

"You okay, sugah?" Rogue asked, helping her husband stand to his feet. Too shocked to say anything coherent, Gambit just nodded.

'Next t'ing y'know, she be bringin' home boys,' he thought in disgust once his brain had processed the fact that his darling little girl had, in fact, grown up.

His wife, sensing the fact that her husband might not be all too together in the head at the moment, took action. "Alan, honey, why don't'cha go fetch ya father some wateh from the kitchen. Na'ilah, go get Hank. Ah think your dad might not be all too well at the moment."

Both kids nodded and scurried off.

"Now, Swamp Rat," Rogue turned, cornering Remy. "What is your problem?"

The energy-projector turned, his eyes wide. "Anna, she...she got breasts!" he exclaimed.

Rogue rolled her eyes in annoyance. "That's what's got ya so worked up? That our teenage daughter successfully passed puberty?"

"But when did dat happen?" he cried. "She was jus' a li'l girl! Next t'ing y'know, she be bringin' home boys!"

The stripe-haired mutant sighed, averting her eyes. "Ah guess now probably wouldn't be the best tahme ta tell you about Jimmy..."

Now THAT caught his attention.

"Jimmy? Who de hell is Jimmy?!" Remy cried.

"Her boyfriend," Anna-Marie growled.

"Her boyfriend?! Dat girl way too young to have a boyfriend!"

"Oh, that's rich comin' from you, Mistah Ah-Married-Mah-First-Wife-At-Eighteen."

"Hey, dat was different, chere," the Cajun retorted. "It was an arranged marriage. Ah had no choice in de matter!"

"And all the girls ya slept with before that?"

"Dat's beside de point. Na'ilah is way too young t' have a boyfriend."

Rogue rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Ah miss the days when life was so much simpler...why did Ah ever have kids? Why did Ah evah wanna touch? Why did Ah evah want the Swamp Rat? Why did Ah evah give up bein' goth?" The X-Woman asked herself.

"Non," Gambit went on, ignoring his wife's internal monologue. "She is definitely way too young f' a boyfriend. And dis Jimmy ain't good 'nough f'her, lemme tell ya. She needs a good t'ief, dat's wat she needs. Ah betcha he couldn't even break into de mansion, much less anywhere else," he ranted.

"Remy!" Rogue exclaimed, catching onto what he was saying. "Our daughtah is not marryin' one'a yer guild membahs! Jimmy is a perfectly decent boy. He gets straight-A's in school, he's on Student Council, and he even plays sports!"

"Oh, so he's a jock? Ah happen t'remember a certain fille not likin' jocks at'all."

"He's not a jock, Swampie! And don't you get started with me! Our daughtah is datin' and you're not gonna do a thang to mess it up! Ya got that, Sugah?" the frustrated wife declared in that Don't-you-dare-question-me tone of voice she used to always get her way.

"Oui," Remy conceded, an adorable pout on his face. Rogue couldn't help but soften up at the sight of it.

"Aw, Sugah...let's go wahpe that adorable li'l pout offa your face." A very naughty grin accompanied her words, and Gambit's mind immediately departed from the daughter-fiasco onto more...important things. For the moment, at least...

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Three days later the subject came up again when it was Remy's turn to pick the mansion and boarding house kids up from school (the supreme masters of the mansion – i.e. Xavier and Logan – had decided it was easier – and safer – to let one of the adults do the driving rather than having the kids carpool themselves, and thus they had drawn straws and happened upon the infamous "car-pool" fiasco, but we don't talk about that. How the Brotherhood got involved was a whole other story, but at least it was thriving positively somehow, despite all the adults being the sludge of humutant society). The last school bell had rung about ten minutes ago, and now he was waiting for the last few stragglers to make their way to the vehicle (his daughter being among them).

"Hey, Uncle Remmers," a voice cut through his thoughts. 'Uncle Remmers' didn't need to turn to know who had addressed him. There were only two people who had the gall to call him 'Remmers ' and get away with it. And Gambit was fairly sure that Pyro was no longer in school...but then, he could be wrong. One never could tell with the Aussie. He was just weird.

"Zen," the brunette man greeted, turning to see the boy who had just plopped himself into the passenger's seat. There was point number one in the whole Pyro-was-weird thing. Who else in the world would name their son Zen?

Zen grinned madly (almost as madly as his father...but then again, he had some of Wanda's less-insane-but-way-more-psychotic-ness to counteract his father's mad grinning) and ran a hand through his fairly short white hair, orange streaks dancing through his fingers as he did so. "So, how was your day, Uncle Remmers?" he asked, voice containing a faint Australian accent. And there! That was another thing. For the life of him, Remy couldn't understand how the boy managed to have an Australian accent. He'd never even set foot on the continent (being, in part, as Pyro was still banned from ever coming back, even with the human-mutant worldwide peace laws in place).

"Eh, same as usual," the Cajun responded wearily. "Y'know, savin' de world from psycho mad-men."

"Like gramps?"

"Actually, today y' grand-père laid low. Ah dunno, but Ah t'ink he likes me f' some weird sorta reason. 'E always tends t' hang low when it's mah day. Nah, t'day was more o' less y' average evil scientist tryin' t' experiment on—what de hell is dat?!" Remy cut himself off, noticing something across the campus.

Zen turned his head, following his godfather's line of sight. What he saw made him pale considerable.

"Now, Uncle Remmers. Don't do anything rash! Auntie Anna wouldn't like that! Don't do it!" the teenager tried to calm him. But, alas. It was too late for poor old Gambit. The sight he saw would forever be imprinted in his brain. It was his daughter. Being hugged by a...a boy (the Cajun purposely ignored the fact that Zen was a boy who frequently hugged his daughter because the two of them had been cradle-buddies together. AND, Zen could decently rob a house or break into a mansion, courtesy of the illustrious Remy LeBeau).

"Oh," Remy growled. "So that's Jimmy."

Zen nearly freaked out. When his uncle started speaking properly, one knew that someone was in trouble. And one James Tittensor was about to find out what it felt like to be blown into a million pieces. When his uncle opened the van door and stepped out, ignoring the shrieks of all the kids in the back seat, Zen knew there was only one thing left that he could do. The magnetic mutant picked up the communicator and called the mansion.

Remy, meanwhile, strode decisively towards where his daughter stood hugging her boyfriend. He could feel energy beginning to pour out of his being, reminding him to keep his emotions slightly in check. Even though he was purposely breaking Rogue's rule, he was still sane enough to realize that if he did burst into his energy form, there was no way his wife would ever forgive him in this lifetime. It was hard, but the enraged father managed to constrain himself somehow. Ah, the woes of being an Omega-class mutant. Always having to restrain oneself.

Oh, well.

Unfortunately (or fortunately for Jimmy, as the case may be), Na'ilah happened to glance up just in time to see her father bearing down on the two of them, his lengthy hair whipping every which way and energy cracking off of him in bright white waves. Her whole body froze, eyes widening ever-so-slightly, causing Jimmy to turn around. The sight he saw stunned him.

"My dad," she whispered to her petrified boyfriend. Truth be told, she was just as scared (if not more so) as him. He looked like he was about to change into his energy form. The only time she had ever seen that happened (and that had truly been a sight to behold) was six years ago. The ten-year-old girl and her six-year-old brother had been kidnapped by a slightly crazy assassin that had a strange obsession with her father. There had almost been nothing of him left for Rogue to finish off.

"That's your dad?" Jimmy exclaimed, sweat culminating on his face as he began to hyperventilate.

Stepping out in front of her boyfriend, the teenage girl put on a brave facade. She would go down in history as noble to the death. "Uh...h-hi, Daddy," she greeted, stammering slightly. The energy-crackling and hair-whipping seemed to die down minutely as he stared her down.

"Na'ilah. Sweetie. Who is that boy?" Na'ilah knew she was in trouble when her father started using proper grammar.

And now for the moment of truth. With a smile that showed anything but what she was feeling at the moment (fear that her boyfriend was about to be blown out of existence), she replied, "Daddy, I want you to meet my boyfriend, Jimmy. Jimmy, this is my father, Remy LeBeau, more commonly known as Gambit."

"N-nice to m-meet you, Mr. LeBeau," the ever-polite human adolescent greeted.

Now, Remy knew his daughter was trying to butter him up. Not only did he have empathic powers, but that girl only ever called him "daddy" when she was trying to get something from him. Or in this case, stop him from murdering her boyfriend. Every other time it was "papa" in true Thieves-Guild style. Gambit, though, would not be swayed.

"Move out of the way, honey," the red-eyed mutant responded. Nervously, his daughter inched away from between the two men of her life. As her father continued to bear down on her boyfriend, their salvation came in the form of a strong Mississippian accent.

"Remy Etienne LeBeau, if you lay one hand on that boy there, Ah swear Ah will lay a hurtin' on you so bad!"

"Mama!" the girl exclaimed in delight as Rogue swooped out of the sky.

"Laying hands was never part of the plan, mon chère," Remy replied caustically, even though he did halt his motions.

"Blowin' the boy up counts as layin' hands, Swampie," the enraged wife shot back, landing next to her husband. "'Sides, imagine where you'd be if Logan'd gutted you every time you came near me."

"He damn near succeeded in doin' dat more times'n you know!" the energy-casting mutant glowered. "An' now Ah know damn well why! Y' didn't see de way he was touchin' her!"

"He was giving me a hug!" Na'ilah protested, not so afraid since he'd started talking his Cajun-speak again.

"Y'ain't allowed t' hug no boys!" Remy shouted in response.

"I hug Zen all the time and you don't have a problem with that!"

"Zen ain't a boy!"

The unfortunate mutant in question just happened to amble onto the scene at that particular moment. He'd deemed it safe to leave the comforts of the van when he'd seen Rogue approach, and now the adolescent was starting to wish that he hadn't.

"Well, if I'm not a bloke, what am I? I'm certainly no sheila, that' s for sure," he muttered to himself, feeling up his chests at the same time to prove his point.

Rogue, meanwhile, took this opportunity to turn to the petrified human in the midst of these powerful mutants.

"Uh, hey Jimmy," the southern belle started, turning to her daughter's boyfriend. "Ah think it would be best if you, ya know, went home and left Na'ilah alone for a couple o' weeks. Just until mah idiot of a husband calms down enough for us tah talk some sense into that thick skull o' his."

"O-okay, Mrs. LeBeau."

"Please. Call me Rogue. Everyone else does...well, except Zen, but that boy's a few trees short of a forest, if you know what Ah mean."

"Uh...right, Mrs...um...Rogue."

Rogue shook her head, shooting the boy one last smile before going to confront her raging husband. The terrified human took off in the opposite direction running so fast he could almost be mistaken for Pietro.

Spinning her furious spouse around, Rogue glared up at the taller man with death in her eyes. "You an' me," she began lowly, "Are gonna have a real long talk tonight."

Remy eeped.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"Jimmy called her two days later t' break up wit' her," Remy recounted to Logan as they sat at Harry's having a drink. "An' Ah t'ought dat was de end of it. But now...now it's worse! Logan, she datin' Mike!"

The feral mutant spewed out his beer, making a weird gagging noise that was someplace between choking and laughing. "Mike? As in Michael, Angel's brat? The one with the God-complex?"

"Oui, dat's de one," Remy mourned pitifully. "An' Rogue says if Ah hurt him, we're gettin' a divorce."

"It's about damn time," Wolverine muttered under his breath, taking another swig of beer.

"Ah just don't know what to do!" Remy bemoaned, banging his head against the bar top. "So, Ah need some advice."

"And you're comin' to me why?"

"Well, y' managed t' keep me from datin' Rogue for a good couple o' years."

"Yeah, and see how well that turned out. 'Sides, the only reason I've left you two alone is because you ran off and eloped, and by the time you got back it was too late to anull the wedding."

Gambit ignored Logan's snide comments. "Sil vous plait, Wolvie, Ah'm desperate! Ah can't let dat fool date mah baby girl! And especially not when you way his idiot o' a père into de equation! Ah ain't bein' no in-law with dat stupid, angel-winged twerp."

"Cajun," Wolverine began slowly, taking a long drink from his bottle. "All I've gotta say to you is that there comes a time when you just have to let go and let them date on their own. You can't stay there and scare off every boy who comes a'callin. You've gotta—," the sound of Wolverine's communicator going off interrupted their conversation. "Ah, flamin' hell. I've gotta go. See you around, Cajun."

"What, is some psycho tryin' t' take over de world?"

"Naw, Jamie's gone within ten yards of Rahne's door again. That stupid boy just don't learn!"

Remy blinked, brushing a lock of hair behind his ear as he contemplated Wolverine's last words to the stocky man's retreating back.

"Wait a minute," he said quietly to himself, "Isn't Rahne bearin' down on thirty?"

"Can it, Gumbo!" Came the hollered back reply.

Remy laughed under his breath. "Let go, mah ass. Can Ah get another bottle?" As the beer slid over to him, an evil grin broke out on the dark-haired man's face. Combined with the way his eyes glowed eerily, it didn't bode well for whoever he was thinking of. And there was only one person he was thinking of.

"Heh," he chuckled darkly, taking a hearty swing of his fresh beer. "He's gonna regret messin' wit' mah daughter."

And thus, Operation: Destroy Michael would commence.

TBC...

Well, I hope you all enjoyed the first chapter of my story! I was going to make it a one-shot, but I've figured if I don't put it up, I'll never finish. It'll be a two-shot instead. Review! And thanks for reading!