Hello, lovely darlings! I know, I'm on a ROMY kick right now (what's with all this hetero stuff?), but you know you like it. I decided to write this because there's not enough of the Logan perspective on Rogue and Gambit's relationship. I wanted to see more of it, because Logan is basically Rogue's father, and I feel he should be more involved in their relationship.

So! There's that. And here's this! It will be from Remy's perspective, or sort of a third person omniscient view. IDK, I can't really tell the difference.

Also, I don't speak French. I've said it before and I'll say it again: all the French I know comes from Google Translate, Moulin Rouge, fanfiction, and my one French-speaking friend. Forgive any discrepancies, please.

Enjoy!

-Forbala-

A NIGHT OUT

"Bonjour, Wolvie," a certain flirtatious Cajun said, entering the kitchen and sitting beside the muscle-laden mutant. Logan sighed and took a swig of his beer. Gambit gave him one hell of a headache, but Rogue liked him so Logan didn't gut the man.

"What d'ya want, Gumbo?"

"Not'in, jus' t' talk." Logan raised his eyebrow in disbelief. "Non, Remy serious. Y' woan go out t'night?"

"Sure," Logan consented after a moment. Rogue was always begging the two to do something together in hopes that they'd get along well enough to avoid killing each other. This was as good a time as any, he supposed.

"Bien! I will see you t'night, homme," Gambit said, strolling from the kitchen like a model on the runway. He sure was a cocky bastard.

That night, the men took Gambit's car to a nearby bar. They began with a game of pool and a round of drinks—Logan with a beer and Gambit with a glass of bourbon.

"What say we make a little gamble, mon ami? Mm?" Gambit said after their first game.

"Ha, no thanks, Gumbo. But I wouldn't be above hustling some naïve kids," he smirked, looking at some half-drunk boys barely over eighteen.

"Oui, Wolvie. I'll be righ' back." Gambit went to the bar and got another bourbon, then began talking to the drunken teens. They laughed and after another few moments came over to the pool table.

"Logan, dis is William and Damien. Dey ready to lose some money, oui?"

"Ah, no way, man!" the one called William said, leaning heavily on his poolstick. Another couple drinks and he'd be out like a light. "We're gonna totally win!"

Damien smacked his buddy's back and laughed, saying, "Damn right we are!"

Logan and Gambit shared a look. This was going to be too easy.

Half and hour later, Logan and Gambit were up fifty dollars each and the drunken boys were waving down a cab, depressed. The X-Men sat at the bar and talked about hockey and life at the X-Mansion.

"Mon Dieu, Summers needs to relax!" Gambit said. "He 'bout ripped my head off th' other day."

"He's got a stick so far up his ass it's a wonder he can move at all," Logan laughed.

"Oui, Wolvie, is true! He needs to get laid. We should talk to mademoiselle rouge abou' that."

"What were you doing that got one-eye all keyed up?"

"Goofin' around."

Logan looked at him accusatorily. "You were flirting with Rogue."

"Oui, you caught me."

They were quiet for a few moments. Then Gambit said, "I woan talk t' y' 'bout somet'in', Wolvie."

"About Rogue?"

"Oui. Y' know we pretty serious an'—"

"God, if you ask me for her hand, I swear—"

"Well, I'm afraid dat's why I wanted to come out here t'night. I woan marry your girl."

"I'm not her father, Gumbo."

"May as well be."

They were quiet for a bit, then Logan looked at the thief. "You really love her?"

"More dan life itself."

"I swear to God, if you hurt her, I will gut you and mount your head on my wall."

"She's in good hands, homme."

Logan glared at him for that, but continued on. "Fine. If she'll have you, I won't get in your way."

"Mon Dieu, merci, mon ami!" he cried, hugging Logan. "You won' be sorry. Remy won' give y' no reason to gut 'im."

"Don't touch me."

"Oui, oui, bien sûr." He let go of the Wolverine, but held his gaze, his face more serious than Logan had ever seen it. "Thank you. I will take care o' her."

X

When Gambit teetered into his room later that night, Rogue was in his bed, waiting. She sat up when she heard the door click and asked, "How was your night out?"

"Wonderful, ma chere!" He stumbled to the bed and fell on the sheets. "Couldn' be better!"

"Sugah, yer drunk," she laughed.

"Non, non! Well…maybe Remy jus' a little drunk." He laughed and pulled his chere close for a sloppy kiss. Even drunk, Remy was an excellent kisser.

"C'mon, Swamp Rat, let's get you ready for bed." She pulled off his trench coat and hung it on the back of the desk chair. Then she began to pull off his fitted black t-shirt, kissing him all the while. He put one hand on her supple hips and slid his other hand up her thigh, bunching her silky nightgown up at her hips.

Then, suddenly, he pulled away.

"Remy?"

"Anna Marie, will you marry me?"

Rogue froze in shock. "What…?"

"Dat's why I was out with Wolvie tonight, chere. I wanted to talk to him about dis. What do you say? Will you bind yourself to dis poor ole thief?"

"Remy. You have to ask?" Rogue kissed him and they held each other close. "I want nothing more than to marry you," she whispered.

Gambit reached into his pocket and retrieved a small black box, in which lay a simple silver band with a single red, heart-shaped diamond. He slipped it on her finger and she admired it briefly before kissing her fiancée again.