The Family Tree's Got Root Rot

Disclaimer: The X-Men are not, and (sadly) never will be, mine. They belong to all those mean people at Marvel who are griping over fan pages. (Does that annoy anybody else?)

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Gambit discovers the truth about his parents and starts to wish maybe he hadn't… (Gambit POV)

Author's Note: Okay, this is my strange attempt at humor. Blame it on the plot bunny who's holding a gun to my head and forcing me to write it…

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The Family Tree's Got Root Rot

By: Addie Logan

*** *** ***

"A family in harmony will prosper in everything." –Chinese Proverb

"Every family has bad memories." –Al Pacino, Godfather III

*** *** ***

I'm not sure what convinced me t'meet him. Sinister's never been exactly at de top of my list of favorite people… But he promised t'tell me what he said he'd tell me all dose years ago. Said he'd tell me who my parents were.

I jus' wasn't expectin' t'hear anyt'ing like dis…

*** *** ***

I gave Sinister dis look of "quoi?" "You're makin' dis up," I said.

"Now why, Gambit, would I lie to you about such a thing?"

Dat made me wanna laugh. Sinister askin' why I'd t'ink he was a liar. Like Rogue askin' why I t'ought mebbe she'd go all whiny on me in de middle of what had been a decent conversation.

"You have t'be lyin'," I said. "Dat ain't possible."

"Explains why you have such strange eyes," Sinister told me wit dat grin of his I always hated. "Besides, with them, anything's possible. One would think you would've figured that out by now."

I decided he had a point dere, but I wasn't bitin'. Dis was Sinister. No way he was jus' gonna tell me de trut' about where I came from den walk away. He was plannin' somet'ing, messin' wit my mind. "I still don' believe you."

"Fine, Remy. Ignore the truth if you want. But I promised you once, many years ago, that I'd tell you what you wanted to know. Now I have."

"You gonna jus' leave now? Not gonna try anyt'ing?"

"What would be the point of anything else? I'm sure I've ruined your life enough with the information I just gave you."

I frowned. Dat much was true. If he was tellin' de trut'—somet'in' I still doubted—den my life was pretty much ruined. He walked away an' I sat down for a smoke, tryin' to process what I tol' myself had to be a lie.

Still, I couldn't jus' let it go wit'out checkin'. At least once I proved to myself it wasn't true, I could sleep at night.

Somet'ing tol' me dis was somet'ing dat was gonna keep me up.

*** *** ***

When I got back to de mansion, I went down to the Medlab an' tol' Hank to run some tests, check and see if de people Sinister said were my parents really were my parents.

De test came back positive.

"You gotta check again!" I yelled, my face white as a sheet. "Dis not possible!"

"I ran the test three times, Gambit," Hank tol' me. "You are Scott and Jean's son."

Never before had I felt so suicidal. I was a Summers. Dere went my last chance at anyt'ing resemblin' somet'ing of a normal life. Not like I really had one before, but as a Summers? Now I was gonna be forced t'be painfully annoyin' an' bossy.

Did dis mean I was gonna have t'come back from de dead at least once ever few years? Was I gonna have t'marry a clone? Did I need an oversized gun? Maybe Bishop had one I could borrow…

"Remy, there are worse people you could be related to," Hank said, bringing me back to de present. "But what I still don't understand is how you can be your age and their child. You didn't time travel the way any of their other children did."

"Apparently I did, Henri," I said. "Sinister tol' me he created me in his lab in de future, den sent me in de past so I could grow up wit'out any of de X-Men knowin' who I was. Dat's why he's been followin' me around an' messin' wit' me for so long."

"Remy this is…well, for once I am at a loss for words. Do you plan on telling Jean and Scott?"

I sighed an' ran my hands t'rough my hair. Hadn't quite decided what I was goin' t'do. "Don' tell anyone jus' yet, homme," I told him. "Need time t'sort t'ings out."

"I understand."

I gave him a nod an' left de Medlab.

*** *** ***

I sat in de recroom playin' solitaire later dat evenin'. Scott an' Jean were dere, an' I kept tryin' to see if mebbe I could see some of myself in dem.

I couldn't.

Scott's outfit was terrible. An', as always, he needed to loosin' up a bit. How could my fat'er be such an up-tight, fashionably-challenged man?

An' Jean. My mot'er? Dat was even harder t'believe. I mean, I'd flirted wit' her before! Mon Dieu, I was attracted to my own mot'er. Wondered what a psychologist would say about dat. Subconscious Oedipal Complex?

Non, dat was jus' me bein' me. I like all de pretty femmes. I jus' didn't know…

"Neit'er did Oedipus," said de obnoxious voice in de back of my head.

I ignored it. Hadn't slept wit' her. Never even tried.

"But if Scott hadn't been around…"

I wanted t'scream. Jean wasn't even my type! I'd never really wanted her, jus' t'ought she was pretty.

"Remy?"

I looked straight up into green eyes. Always had a weakness for green eyes. Jus' dese were framed by red hair, and I shuddered.

"Are you all right, Remy?" Jean asked. "You seem even more down that usual."

I smiled. "I'm fine. Jus' my usual happy self."

Jean frowned. "Don't lie to a telepath."

"Or to your mot'er," I t'ought wit' anot'er shudder. I started t'inkin' mebbe I'd wake up any minute an' discover I was in de middle of de freakiest nightmare my sick little mind could come up wit'.

"Would you like to talk to me about it Remy?" Jean asked. "It might help if you open yourself up to someone." She put her hand on mine,

I snatched my hand back from her as if I'd been burned. "Non!" I shouted. I calmed down a bit when I saw her confused look. "I'm fine I jus'…have t'go."

I ran out of de room, leavin' my cards spread across de table.

*** *** ***

I spent a week avoidin' anybody wit' de last name Summers. Couldn't t'ink of myself as one of dem. Remy Etienne Summers? Non. Dat's a terrible name. Remy Etienne LeBeau. Dat's so much better.

'Sides, if dey had named me, I'd probably wouldn't have a name like Remy. Mebbe I'd be Scott, Jr.

I spent a lot of time dat week shudderin' in revulsion at my t'oughts.

I finally decided it was time t'come clean an' talk to Scott an' Jean. Figured dey had a right t'know. Mebbe not'ing would changed. Mebbe we could all go into denial an' forget dis ever happened.

Dey stared at me for a good ten minutes, mout's hangin' open. Finally Scott said, "Could you repeat what you just said. I want to make sure I didn't hear you wrong."

"I'm your son—from de future. Sinister made me."

Jean got up, lookin' very upset. "How many damn time-traveling children can one couple have?! Couldn't I have a child in a normal way just once?!"

I felt bad for her den. I hadn't really t'ought about how many times dis had happened to her before. Rachel…Cable… Well, Cable wasn't technically hers. More like her clone's. An' he'd been born in dis timeline and sent into de future, so at least dey'd known he existed. I sighed. Dis family was more mixed up den de one I had back in Louisiana…

"Are you absolutely positive about this, Remy?" Scott asked.

"Oui. Already had Hank verify it."

Jean turned around t'look at me again. "How long have you known?"

"'Bout a week."

"And you didn't tell us!"

She looked furious. I tried t'tell myself she was jus' upset at de situation an' takin' it out on Gambit—de official punchin' bag of de X-Men. Still, de look of fire in her eyes was frightenin'. Made me glad she didn't raise me. Probably woulda lived in fear every time I didn't eat all my vegetables or forgot t'clean my room. "I didn't know what t'say!" I said, tryin' t'defend myself. "Not exactly easy t'walk up an' say, "Jean, Scott, you're my parents."

"Well, when you finally did decide to tell us you did it just fine!" Jean yelled.

"Gee, sorry, I'll do better next time!" I snapped at her sarcastically.

"Don't talk back to her," Scott said in a voice I found frighteningly paternal.

I muttered, "Sorry."

"I need to go lie down," Jean said. Den she walked out of de room.

Scott an' I jus' stared at each ot'er for a moment. "So…you're my son."

"Technically."

"You don't look like me."

"Non." I was thankful for dat. "Neit'er does Nat'an, really…" De t'ought of Cable bein' my brot'er was freaky.

"Now that I think about it, you look a little like Jean."

Dat was even more freaky. "Uh, mebbe a little."

"You sure there's no…"

"Hank assured me our genes are a match," I said, inferring what he was about t'ask—again.

"It jus' seems so…"

"Fittin' wit your family tree?" I supplied.

He gave me a dirty look. "Well, Sinister has always been obsessed with creating a child from Jean and me. He said it would be the perfect mutant." He gave me de once over. "I never thought you were exactly what he had in mind."

I was insulted. "Non? What is Cable so much better den me or somet'ing? Face it, Cyclops, Sinister was wrong t'inkin' you an' Jean would have perfect children."

He did dat t'ing he does where he crosses his arms in front of him an' ya know he's glarin' at ya from behind dose glasses he's always got t'wear. "Have you told anyone else on the team."

"Non. Only Hank, 'cause I wanted him t'make sure. Why? You 'shamed of me?" I gave him my best smile.

He looked irked. "No, I was only wondering who knew."

"Jus' de four of us. An' I don' t'ink Hank's de type to go spreadin' family secrets." Scott an' I bot' looked a little strange when I said dat. I'd never been a part of his X-Men family, really, an' now dat I was his family by blood… I was shudderin' 'gain.

"I…I should go check on Jean," Scott said. I nodded an' he ran out de room.

I wished den I'd kept t'ings to myself. Mebbe gone an' found de White Queen an' asked her t'wipe dis particular bit of information from my memory so I wouldn't know eit'er.

*** *** ***

Two weeks, an' I still wasn't warmin' up to bein' a Summers. Deir family tree was de butt of plenty of jokes 'round dis mansion, an' now here I was, anot'er branch of it. Scott an' Jean had tol' me dey weren't comfortable wit' tellin' anyone yet, an' I tol' dem I agreed whole-heartedly.

Kinda funny when you t'ought about it, dem ashamed to be related t'me, me ashamed t'be related t'dem. 'Cept I figured I had a lot more t'be embarrassed by. I had a reputation dat bein' Scott's son would squash.

Everybody already knew dey had weird kids.

I started hangin' out around Cable, watchin' him wit'out tryin' to be too obvious about it. I wanted t'see if dere was anyt'ing 'bout him dat was like me.

Guess I was bein' more obvious den I t'ought 'cause Logan came an' asked me if I was gettin' de hots for Cable or somet'ing.

I tol' him dat was creepier den he even knew.

Jean an' Scott didn't say much t'me for a couple of weeks. Wasn't much different den before. Dey'd always ignored me mostly—not dat I exactly minded. Dey weren't de type of people I tended t'hang around.

But after what had t'be at least my seven hundredt' fight wit' Rogue, t'ings got weird. Jean came t'my room. Said she'd heard de fight an' wanted t'come in an' "check on me."

I let her in my room an' she sat on my bed an' patted de space in front of her. I sat down. "Are you okay, Remy?" she asked.

"Uh, yeah."

"This relationship with Rogue is hard on you, isn't it."

"A little…" I admitted. I started wonderin' if I should go out an' look for pods. Since when did Jean care 'bout what happened 'tween Rogue an' me.

"It's terrible the way she treats you sometimes."

I wanted to conduct dat pod search den. "I'm not exactly de best boyfriend in de world," I said. "An' she's got her issues."

Jean patted my leg. "I'm sure you're perfectly fine to her, Remy," Jean said. "She should have more respect for you."

I decided any pod-searchin' would be pointless. Someone had definitely replaced Jean. Mebbe it was anot'er clone… Mebbe Sinister was tryin' t'drive me crazy.

"I…I didn't know you cared, Jean."

"I'm your mother, Remy. Of course I care."

Dat t'rew me for a loop. I made a mental note t'ask Scott if Jean was skippin' any medications she shoulda been takin'. "T'ings aren't so bad wit' Rogue right now," I said, decidin' jus' t'go wit' de flow. Jean could be in a volatile state or somet'ing. Mebbe she'd finally jus' snapped. "It wasn't even dat bad of a fight. We had much worse. I didn't end up in de snow dis time."

Jean pushed my bangs out of my eyes. "You poor thing," she said. "I can't believe the whole team actually just sat back and let all that stuff in Antarctica take place. I promise you, Remy, I'll never let anything that bad happen to you again."

"Uh, t'anks." I was way beyond creeped out by dis point. "So I, uh, take it you've come t'grips wit' de whole me bein' your son t'ing."

"Yes. Sorry I was so rude about it at first, Sweetie. It just surprised me.

Sweetie? Okay, "creeped out" was an understatement now. I was scared outta my mind. "Um, Jean, I'm a little tired. I t'ink I'm jus' gonna get some sleep an' try t'talk t'Rogue in de mornin' when she's calmed down some."

"That sounds like a good idea. You get some sleep, then."

Den she did de scariest t'ing of all. She tucked me in! I half expected de woman t'read me a bedtime story… She even tol' me "sweet dreams" when she turned off my light.

I had trouble sleepin' dat night.

*** *** ***

"I want to take you shopping."

I looked at Jean like she'd jus' turned into a gigantic bug. "What?"

"Let's go shopping Remy, jus' me an' you."

Her eyes were wide an' a little wild. I was afraid of what would happen if I said no. After all, I'd seen dis woman in battle. She could pick me apart wit' a stray t'ought. "Okay…"

"Great! Come on, let's go."

"Now? I'm eating breakfast."

Jean sighed. "That isn't a healthy breakfast, Remy." She robbed me of my box of Sugar Bombs. "Let me make you something better."

I jus' sorta sat dere while she made me an egg and toast. "Here. This is better."

"Jean, I…"

"Eat it!"

I ate my breakfast. Afterwards, she drug me to de mall. She insisted dat she buy me outfits, even t'ough I tol' her I was perfectly capable of affording dem myself. Not dat I wanted what she picked out. I'd never been much of a GAP shopper…

Once we got home, I sat alone on de couch in de den an' pouted. Jean had gone upstairs t'take a nap, but tol' me t'wake her if I needed anyt'ing.

Logan walked past de door, den stopped and came back t'stare at me. "Damn, Remy, what's with the clothes? I thought you were Cyke when I first walked by. I think he's wearin' the same outfit today."

I looked down at my cardigan an' khaki pants. I did look like Scott. "Jean dressed me," I muttered.

Logan raised an eyebrow. "Why did Jeannie dress ya? Somethin' goin' on between the two of ya that I don't know about?"

"Non! No, it's not'ing like dat, Logan." I sighed. "Come here. You better sit down for dis."

He sat across from me in a chair. "What's goin' on wit' you, Gumbo?"

"Jean an' Scott—dey're my parents."

"You bullshittin' me, Remy?"

"Why would I make somet'ing like dat up? You t'ink I wanna be a Summers? Merde, dis is de worse t'ing dat ever happened t'me."

"But how?"

"Apparently Sinister made me in his lab, den sent me in de past t'grow up so no one would find me," I explained.

"Flamin' hell…"

"Dat's one way of puttin' it."

"Who all knows?"

"Jus' you, me, Jean, Scott, and Hank. Had him run a DNA test, make sure Sinister wasn't jus' tryin' t'mess wit' me."

"And it came out positive all the way around?"

"Oui."

"Flamin' hell."

"You already said dat."

"Yeah, well, I say it a lot."

"I know."

"So why is Jeannie dressin' ya up like Scott? Is there a father-son picnic or somethin'?"

I glared at his smirk. "I don' know what's wrong wit' Jean. First she freaked, den she ignored me, an' now she's, well, mot'ering me. She tucked me in last night, made me breakfast dis mornin', an' den insisted on us shoppin' toget'er." Logan was snickering. "Stop it."

He tried to keep a straight face—unsuccessfully. After a few minutes of hysterical laughter he calmed down. "Seems like Jeannie's takin' her desire t'be a mother out on you."

"What?"

"Jean wants kids. Scott doesn't. I think she's usin' the fact you're technically her son to, well, fill the void."

"How do you know dat about her?"

"She told me."

"Why?"

"We talk."

"Oh."

It was quiet for a minute. Den I asked, "Why doesn't she do dis t'Cable instead. He's been her son for longer den I have."

"Remy, think about it. If you were gonna play mommy to somebody, who would it be, you or Cable?"

"Dat's a strange question, Wolverine."

Logan rolled his eyes at me. "C'mon Remy, the guy sleeps with a gun the size of his arm. Not exactly the kind of person you tuck in at night and take shopping for cardigans."

"Are you implyin' I am?"

"Well…Have you looked in a mirror today? You're dressed like a prep-school reject."

"Gee, t'anks."

I stared down at my GAP khakis. "What do I do? It's only been one day, an' I'm already not sure I can take much more of dis. Jean actually did dat spittin' on a napkin t'wipe my face t'ing at lunch today."

Logan started laughing again.

"Dis isn't funny! How would you like it if Jean suddenly started tuckin' you in at night an' lickin' your face?" He looked at me. "All right, all right, bad examples. But really, I gotta make dis stop somehow!"

"I don't know what to tell ya, Cajun. Jean's never made a whole lotta sense to me."

Suddenly, an idea came t'me. "Mebbe we could convince Scott t'want a baby, too."

Logan growled.

"Come on, Logan. You don' honestly still pine for dat woman."

"So what if I do? Maybe I don't like the idea of her having kids with Scott. Maybe I'd rather her to be havin' kids with me."

"Look at it dis way, Wolverine. If you had kids wit' Jean, dey might turn out like me."

He t'ought about dat for a minute. "Good point. So how are we gonna convince Scott he wants to be a father?"

*** *** ***

Logan an' I worked on Operation: Papa Scott until dinner. I forgot all about my clothes until I walked into de dinin' room an' took a look at Scott. He raised an eyebrow at my outfit. "We shop from de same catalogue?" I offered. Den I hurried over t'my usual spot beside Rogue.

"You still mad at me, chére?" I asked.

"Yeah, swamp rat, I…" She stopped when she got a good look at me. "What, did you think it was Halloween and you decided to be Scott?"

I blushed. "Long story, chére."

"Care like sharin'?"

"Not particularly."

Jean walked over and cut up de meat on my plate, den sat down across from me. "Uh, Remy, are you keepin' somethin' from me again?" Rogue asked.

"Please, Rogue, I don' wanna talk about it right now."

"So you are keepin' somethin' from me! I knew it! I knew I couldn't trust you!"

"Rogue, really, it's not'ing dat bad! I'll tell you later, okay?"

"No you won't," Jean said, grabbing me by de arm and moving me down de table away from Rogue. "I don't want you playing with her anymore, Remy."

"Wha…?"

"I'm serious," she said, telekinetically floating my plate down t'me. "She's a bad influence."

Rogue stared in shock.

"But Jean…"

"Eat your dinner, Remy."

Scott started t'say somet'ing, but Jean glared at him, and he gave me dis sort of "listen to your mot'er" look. I sighed and started eating my dinner.

Everyone else started t'eat a few moments later, but de questions in deir eyes were obvious.

*** *** ***

Rogue was at my door after dinner. "All right, LeBeau, spill it. What's goin' on with you and Jean."

I figured I better tell her. I could tell she was already startin' t'get de wrong impression. "Jean's my mot'er Rogue."

"What? You smokin' crack, Remy?"

"Non. She's really my mot'er. An' Scott's my fat'er. Somet'ing Sinister did."

"How long have you known?"

"A few weeks."

"And you didn't tell me!?"

"Rogue, please. I haven't really tol' anyone. Dis is jus' all so weird."

"Who else knows? Besides you and Jean, of course."

"Well, Scott does. An' Hank—he had t'verify what Sinister tol' me. An' Logan knows."

"Logan?! You told Logan before you told me!? How could you do that to me, Remy? I thought we weren't gonna have any more secrets, that we were finally gonna be honest with each other about everything!"

"Non, you decided I was gonna be honest wit' you about everyt'ing," I said, furious about her turnin' dis in to yet anot'er fight about me not bein' open enough wit' her. "You still won't even tell me your real name."

"This ain't about me, Remy!"

"It's never about you, Rogue! Always about Remy an' what he does wrong!"

"Oh for Pete's sake, would you stop referrin' to yourself in the damn third person!"

I started t'come back wit' somet'ing, but stopped when Jean walked into de room. "What's going on in here?"

"Jean, please, I have t'talk to Rogue."

"No you don't. I told you at dinner I don't want you hanging out with her anymore."

Dis was startin' t'go too far. Now I was bein' tol' t'stay away from my girlfriend? "Jean, look, I'm twenty-four years old…"

"Don't you take that tone with me, young man." Jean turned t'Rogue. "And as for you…" She took Rogue by de arm an' started draggin' her out of de room. "You just stay away from my son. He doesn't need to be distracted by the likes of you."

Rogue looked at me, an I jus' shrugged. What was I supposed to do? She pulled her arm away from Jean and stormed out of de room.

Jean ran over t'me. "Are you okay, Sweetie?"

"Jean, dis has got t'stop," I said. "I understand dat you want t'be a mot'er, but I'm not de child you need. I'm a grown man, an', well, we've never even exactly had a close relationship. I may be your son by blood, but dat's it. As far as I'm concerned, de only parent I got is Jean-Luc LeBeau."

Jean's bottom lip started trembling, den she burst into tears. I immediately felt terrible. I went over t'her an' wrapped my arms around her. "Don't cry…please…"

She looked up at me wit' big, tear-filled eyes. "You didn't really mean it, did you Remy?"

"Non," I said. "Of course not, Mom."

She smiled and I wiped de tears out of her eyes. She reached up an' patted my cheek. "Now you get some sleep. You need your rest."

"All right," I said.

She kissed my cheek den went out of de room. I fell back on de bed, hopin' even more den before dat de plan Logan an' I had started actually worked.

*** *** ***

"Since when did the two of you want me to hang out with you?" Scott asked when Logan and I asked him t'come an' watch movies wit' us in de den.

"Well, I t'ought wit' you bein' my papa an' all, mebbe we should do some bondin'. An' Logan didn't have anyt'ing better t'do," I said.

"Well, okay…" Scott said, t'ough I could tell he wasn't really trustin' us. "Wait, Logan knows about us being related?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Hey, your secret's safe with me," Logan said. "I've never been one to run around, airin' people's dirty laundry."

Scott had to admit dat was true. He sighed an' went into de den wit' us.

*** *** ***

Half-way t'rough de movie, I leaned over an' whispered to Wolverine. "Dis was de best you could do?"

"Look, you said to get a movie about men an' babies and that's what I got."

"You coulda gotten somet'ing better den T'ree Men an' a Baby," I hissed.

"What, Junior?" he shot back. "Sorry, but the idea of Arnold Schwarzenegger pregnant freaks me out."

He had a point wit dat. "Still, I don' t'ink dis is gonna do de trick. Not exactly makin' me want t'rush out an' have kids."

"Yeah, well, don't tell him that," Logan said.

I sighed, wondering why dis stuff always happened t'me. I'd be perfectly happy t'just live out de rest of my life on some island somewhere wit' no one to bot'er me. Well, mebbe wit' someone else dere…mebbe Rogue…

When de movie ended, I looked over at Logan. "Y'know, that movie kinda makes me want a kid of my own," he said.

"Me, too," I added.

Scott jus' turned around and stared at us.

"How about you, Scott?"

"I have children," he said wit' a hint of sarcasm. I could tell he was lookin' at me.

"Yeah, but doesn't it make you want a baby?" Logan asked. I knew I owed him big time for dis one—somet'ing he'd already tol' be plenty of times.

"Uh, no." Scott stood up. "Look, it's been fun, but it's getting late, and I need to get back upstairs to Jean. Good night."

"Well dat didn't work so well," I said once Scott was gone.

"Nope."

"It was de terrible movie choice."

Logan glared at me.

*** *** ***

Logan an' I implemented de next phase of our plan: placing parenting magazines in strategic places, baby food in de fridge, an' leavin' toys around de mansion.

It backfired. Scott got mad at Jean for tryin' t'talk him into havin' a baby again. She spent more time mot'ering' me.

I needed a new plan.

I needed better help.

I was desperate.

"Rogue?"

She didn't look up from de book she was readin'.

"I thought you were grounded from me, swamp rat."

"Rogue, please, I'm sorry about dat, okay? Jean's she's jus', well, I don't know what she is right now."

"Why are ya botherin' me, Remy? I'm tryin' to relax and read my book."

"I need your help, chére."

"No."

"Come on, Rogue, at least hear me out before you go sayin' no."

Rogue sighed an' she slipped de bookmark back into her book and set it beside her. "What do ya need?"

"I need you t'help me get Jean off my back."

"And how do ya propose I do that?"

"Logan says Jean's doin' dis 'cause she wants a baby, but Scott says no. Logan and I have been tryin' t'convince him ot'erwise, but it ain't workin'."

"Where do I come in in all this?"

"Logan an' I have decided we need someone else workin' on Scott, an' you're one of de only ot'er people who knows I'm dere kid."

Rogue shook her head. "Oh no. I am not gonna be part of some twisted little plot you've devised with Wolverine. Go bug someone else."

She picked her book back up, an' I took it out of her hands. "Please, Rogue. I need your help wit' dis. I can't take much more of Jean."

"No. Now give me my book back, Remy."

"I love you, Rogue."

She sighed. "Why do ya only say that when ya want somethin' outta me?"

I grinned. "Because I'm a swamp rat."

"Finally, somethin' we agree on." She smiled. "All right, I'll help ya—but only because Jean's been gettin' on my nerves, too."

I kissed her on de top of her head, where her skin would protect me from her deadly skin. "T'anks, chére."

"Don't mention it."

*** *** ***

I had to admit, Rogue was good. She actually found someone out dere willin' t'let her baby-sit—and she rigged it so it was on a night when Scott was de only ot'er person home.

I'm not sure who's baby it was, but she assured me dat she obtained it in a completely legal way.

Not dat I much cared at de moment. Anyt'ing t'get Jean off my back. She was getting' worse by de minute. She'd gone from a woman who freaked out if I as much as walked in de kitchen when it was her turn t'cook t'one dat cried over our "shared culinary skills." Jus' de night before I'd been about two seconds away from hittin' her wit' a charged wooden spoon.

Rogue tol' me t'call her about an hour after I left an' fake some sort of emergency. I did, an' Rogue said she had t'leave an' asked Scott if he'd take de baby.

Scott reluctantly agreed.

We stayed out for a few hours, hopin' dat it would give Scott some "quality baby time."

Fate's never been a big fan of mine.

Rogue, Logan, an' I got back to de mansion t'find Scott sittin' on de couch, covered in what appeared t'be a combination of milk an' applesauce. Baby toys were all over de den, mixed wit' anyt'ing dat had at one time been on de table or de bottom t'ree shelves.

"I didn't know they were that fast at eighteen months," Scott said, shaking his head slowly. I saw dat one half of his hair was matted to his head an' looked like it had somet'ing sticky in it.

He pointed over to a chair, an' I saw dat de baby was asleep in it. "She finally just passed out," Scott said. "She ran around the mansion until she reached that chair, climbed up into it, and fell asleep." He ran his fingers t'rough his sticky hair. "I have to go…clean the kitchen. Dinner didn't go so well."

He walked out of de room, and Rogue, Logan, an' I exchanged looks.

"Looks like it's time for Plan B," Logan said.

"What's Plan B?" Rogue asked.

*SNIKT*

*** *** ***

About a mont' later, Jean found out she was pregnant. She was ecstatic, an' almost immediately she returned t'normal around me.

I overheard a conversation 'tween Logan an' Scott shortly after Jean tol' Scott her news. "I just don't understand it," Scott said. "We've been using condoms—we always have and this has never happened before."

I could almost hear de smirk in Logan's voice. "Well, bub, I guess one of 'em musta had a hole in it."

*** *** ***

Okay, that was my first attempt at a somewhat humorous story. Tell me what you thought!