I don't own X-Men: Evolution but here is a nice little story just in time for Christmas. Have a Merry Christmas everyone, and have a joyous and prosperous New Year!

Remy trudged through the snow on the edge of the Institute's grounds, unique red on black eyes picking out the path in the moonlit night. His breath floated around his face in wispy vapors as he trudged along. It'd been almost two months since he'd been back, and he missed the sights and sounds of home dearly. Especially this time of year, he mused as he glanced at the mansion that was bedecked with wreaths and garlands.

His steps took him into the edge of the forest surrounding the grounds, following a path that he had walked dozens of times before. The branches cast twisted shadows, dark abysses, in the midst of the pure untouched snow. Soon it all fell away to reveal a small stone and log home, nestled in the middle of an alabaster white meadow.

According to Professor Xavier, the place had once been a guest house for the many people that once visited the estate that once existed on the grounds. Or at least that's the story he gave Remy, along with the keys to it as a wedding present.

The windows in the living room were bright, casting their warmth in golden pools in the darkness. He smiled and trudged to the door, taking enough time to kick the snow off his boots before stepping gratefully into the house.

"That you sugah?" a Southern voice called softly.

He chuckled and shed his outer clothes before replying. "Non," he answered back just as quietly," It's de milkman."

"Really?" the voice replied," Well while you're here, would you mind helpin' me string these lights? Then you better git before mah husband gets home."

He chuckled and leaned against the corner of the wall. "Why cherie," he teased, narrowing his eyes playfully," Jus' what have you been up to dese past duex months?"

She looked back at him, green eyes sparkling with mirth as she paused in her attempts to unravel the snarl of Christmas lights that lay scattered across the back of a chair. She abandoned them and sauntered over, placing her hands on his shoulders and going up on tiptoe to give him a kiss.

"Wouldn't you like ta know?" she purred and squeaked as he wrapped his arms around her, burying his nose in her hair.

"Very funny chere," he mumbled before capturing her lips for a longer, sweeter kiss.

She returned it warmly and pulled back, running her fingers through his unkempt auburn hair. "Ya'll need a haircut swamp rat," she said," Any longer and it'll be as long as mine."

He smirked, running his own fingers through her shoulder length auburn and white locks. "Why chere," he said in his most innocent voice," I t'ought you liked my hair long, better grip as I recall."

She blushed and he chuckled," Four years of marriage and I can still make yo' blush, and it's still as much fun."

She smiled, blush still staining her cheeks a pretty shade of rose. "Ya and these last two months haven't been much fun for me," she grumbled playfully," But then I did have this young fella around ta chase away the blues."

"Really?" he asked, giving her a mock serious look," Should I be jealous?"

"Oh definitely," she responded in the same tone," He's almost as charming as you are."

He chuckled. "Well he is learnin' from de best," he replied," Olivier in bed yet?"

"Ya," she said and pulled out of his embrace. "I'll make us some hot chocolate if ya want to go check up on him."

"Okay," he said and disappeared down a short hall. He came to a door almost at the end and he eased it open, peering inside. A slight form creased the covers of the bed and he smiled at the shock of auburn hair that peeked out. Silent as a ghost, he glided to the side of the bed and knelt down. His son, he thought as he softly brushed some hair back from the angelic face and the red and black eyes, identical to his own, hidden by his eyelids.

He looks like me, dere's almost none of Rogue in him, and dat's a shame. She is so belle and he'd be even more handsome to have some of her features.

He carefully brushed a kiss across his son's cheek before exiting the room as quietly as he had entered. He still vividly remembered the day when Rogue had told him she was pregnant. They'd only been married for a year and a half at the time, and as neither of them had ever had a good set of parents to model themselves after, they were nervous about becoming parents themselves.

But then the excitement set in and they could hardly wait to meet their son. The moment the tiny baby was laid in Remy's arms he was gone; this tiny child with his own eyes had him wrapped around his little finger. Still did, he mused, recalling the number of things that little scamp had gotten him to do.

He padded back to the living room and sank down onto the couch with a sigh, wrapping his arm around Rogue who curled up against him. She handed him a cup of chocolate and leaned back into his chest, perfectly content. He kissed the top of her head and glanced at the various boxes of ornaments that were strewn about.

"Haven't felt like putting everyt'ing away yet?" he asked," After all, it's Christmas tomorrow."

"Ah know," closing her eyes," Ah've just been so tired lately, Ah haven't felt like doing much of anything."

"Maybe yo' comin' down with somethin'. Yo' been to see Hank?" he asked, eyes flickering with worry.

She chuckled and shook her head. "I call post-holiday stress kickin' in early. Especially since I had Kitty an' Kurt over here tryin' to 'help," she snorted," Honestly, I wasn't sure who was more trouble, Olivier or Kurt."

"Really? What dey do?" he asked, knowing full well Kurt's reputation as a prankster and general troublemaker.

She groaned and gave him an exasperated look. "Well the first thing Kurt tried ta do was teleport into the tree. Why he thought that was a good idea, I'll never know. He knocked the whole thing over, and pine needles went flyin' everywhere. Then he decided to throw ornaments onto the tree rather than hang them. After he broke two I threatened to pluck his fur out one hair at a time. He quit after that. Then he and Olivier were in the kitchen getting into the dough and any fresh baked cookies…and trying to get into presents…and throwing snowballs at the windows…and dragging in mud and slush all through the house. "

He chuckled, "An' where was de Chaton durin' all of dis?"

"Doing what she does best," Rogue snipped playfully," Chatterin' my ear off and tryin' to be sneaky when she's helping them out. Ah swear, she'd just as bad as they are because no one really expects it out of her."

He laughed again, keeping his voice low so he wouldn't wake up their still slumbering son. "Why chere, don't you know that chatons are mischievous creatures?"

"Ya," she said, considering that statement with a twinkle in her eye," About like Swamp Rat's Ah'd say."

He snorted and took the mug from her hands, setting it on the coffee table along with his own. He took her face in his hands and stared deep into her eyes, pools of onyx and crimson into emerald green depths.

"Speakin' of mischievous," he muttered huskily," Yo' been teasin' me since I walked though de door and as much as I enjoy it," he kissed her, hard and passionate," I'm done playin'."

She smiled against his lips and pulled back a little to smirk at him. "Ah'm just getting' started," she murmured and he growled, capturing her lips with his in another soul-searing kiss.

A few hours later, with his wife curled nude against his side in their bed he let his mind wander. His thoughts were scattered and disorganized, ranging from excitement at seeing his adopted family again, to spending Christmas Day with his son, to the success of his most recent mission.

Then Rogue sighed softly in her sleep, and like the needle of a compass swings to the North so his thoughts swung back to her. She had changed so much since he had first met her on the battlefield all those years ago. She had gotten taller, her boyish frame blossoming into the curves and strength of a woman, a mother. The goth make-up and clothes were long gone, as was the hostile attitude; all that had disappeared when she had finally gotten her powers under control. He smiled, tightened his grip on her, his Queen of Hearts, and buried his nose into her hair before slowly falling asleep.

The next morning he awoke to find his wife gone, but he wasn't surprised. She'd always been an early riser, something not even their marriage could change and he'd never bothered to try. It was just one of the many things that he loved about her.

He threw back the covers and after a quick shower, dressed in a pair of comfortable blue jeans and a well loved red sweater before heading out in search of breakfast.

He found Rogue putting a plate of bacon on the table, the final piece to the array of breakfast foods that were sprawled across the table. He planted a quick kiss on her cheek before pouring himself a cup of coffee. Rogue wiped her hands on a dishtowel and glanced at the clock before leaning around the corner of the hallway.

"Olivier," she called," you'd better get up. Santa came home last night and you have to eat breakfast before you can see what's in your presents."

"Oh so I'm Santa now eh?" he asked wryly, as the sound of something heavy hitting the floor filled their ears.

She smirked and shrugged unapologetically," Ya'll are the one wearing red."

He smiled and turned as a door flew open and a still bleary eyed Olivier stumbled out, blinking the sleep from his red and black eyes. He took one look at the figure sitting at the kitchen table and he yelped, abandoning his sleepiness to throw himself unashamed at his father.

"Papa, you're home," he cried, voice threatening to slip into a high pitch.

"Oui mon fils," he chuckled, wrapping his son in a tight embrace," An' just in time for Christmas too."

Olivier peered over his father's shoulder, eyes brightening at the pile of presents that sat underneath the tree. "Did Santa bring dose for me?" he asked, his voice leaning towards his father's Cajun accent.

"If ya mere said so, den he did. And she said so, so it must be true," he said and nodded confidently at his wife.

Rogue rolled her eyes at them and sat down at her own place. "Eat your breakfast Olivier, then you can get into the presents."

He made a show of pouting and a dramatic, pathetic glance at the gifts before plopping obediently into his seat and digging into his food. She couldn't help but smirk as she observed the two, plates piled high.

Remy caught her eye and smiled unapologetically at her. His metabolism burned through food so fast that he had to eat enormous amounts of food to satisfy himself; and from the appetite their young son had always had, they couldn't help but wonder if maybe he might take after his father in powers as well as metabolism. He then glanced at her plate and paused, surprised. All she had in front of her was a glass of orange juice and a plate of toast.

She met his worried gaze and smiled warmly, shaking her head to say that he shouldn't ask now. He nodded and continued his breakfast, stealing glances at her throughout.

Olivier polished off the last few bites and set his fork down. "Mama, may I be excused ta get into da presents now?"

"Hmm," she said pretending to think about it while he gave her his best puppy dog eyes," Okay ya rascal, presents it is."

He darted over to the tree with a speed to rival Quicksilver's and started to dig through the pile happily. In a moment he had three piles put together and moved them to the person they belonged to. He settled himself between his parents on the couch and happily plucked a present from the pile and set it on his lap before tearing into it. He laughed when he came up with his prize, a beautiful leather baseball glove.

"Dis Spring I'll teach you to play baseball," Remy said and laughed as his son enveloped him in a hug.

Rogue laughed and began to go through her own presents, finding a beautiful silver necklace with the pendant of a rose encrusted by rubies and onyx. A heart and a stylized Q had been woven into the petals and she smiled.

"Jus' thought dat my Queen needed a few more jewels," he said and she leaned over to kiss him.

"Ewww," Olivier muttered and slouched down, trying to hide under a pile of wrapping paper.

They both laughed and he patted Olivier on the back. "Well now dat yo' know what Santa got yo' for Christmas. Why don' you go get dressed and we'll go up to the mansion. Oui?"

"Oui papa," the boy said and scampered off towards his room.

He chuckled and turned back to Rogue, frowning when he did. She had turned a little paler than normal and she rested a hand on her stomach, eyes closed and breathing even.

"Are yo' sure yo' alright chere?" he asked again, taking her hand in his. She smiled at him and got to her feet.

"Ah'll be fine," she reassured him and pressed a quick kiss against his lips," Now let's get dressed and over to the mansion before Logan decides ta come lookin' for us."

"Says de short, hairy and angry home," he muttered and Rogue whacked him playfully.

"Quit yappin' and get dressed," she commanded and laughed when he threw her a mock salute before going off in search of something nicer to wear.

The Institute was full of people when they got there and Olivier immediately made a beeline for his best friends Nathan Summers and Alexander Rasputin, along with his cousin Sophia Wagner.

Remy couldn't help but smile at his niece. She had inherited her father's blue fur, hair, and spaded tail, though only time would tell if she was a teleporter as well, and her mother's deep brown eyes. She was pretty and cute in his opinion. He just hoped that she'd be able to find a guy who, like her mother had with Kurt, look past the surface to see what truly lay beneath. Sophia caught his gaze and gave him a bright fanged smile before turning back to talk to her cousin and friends.

Rogue's bell-like laugh filled the air and he turned to see her in an animated conversation with the Chaton, who was busy keeping an eye on her son, and Jean, who was doing the same. He rolled his eyes, though the three of them were truly vigilant when it came to their troublesome offspring and Jean was a telepath, those three still managed to slip off and get into trouble.

"You are also vondering vhat trouble our kinder are planning?" a voice asked and he turned to see his brother-in-law standing there smiling at him.

"Actually yes," he said," All of dem are trouble and Olivier is no exception."

The furry mutant chuckled and glanced at the kids lovingly. "Come on bruder," he said and clapped Remy on the back," Come on bruder, let's go see what Scott and Piotr are up to eh?"

He glanced back to his wife just in time to see Amanda join the group. He turned back to Kurt and smiled. "Why not?"

Later that night, after shuffling a sleepy Olivier off to bed they retired to their room. He closed the door to their room and turned to find Rogue sitting on the edge of their bed staring at him with a thoughtful expression.

"What?" he asked, cocking his head to the side and studying her.

She shook her head and sighed," Oh just thinking.'"

He made his way silently to her side and sat down, taking her hands in his own. "What's going on chere?"

She took a deep breath. "Do you remember," she began quietly," that talk we had about maybe having another baby after Olivier got a little older?"

"Oui," he said and waited for her to continue.

"Well I went to see Hank early this morning to see if maybe," she paused and bit her lip.

He drew in a slow breath. "Are you pregnant Rogue?"

She looked at him a moment before a bright smile spread across her face. "Ah'm two months along and the baby's fine."

He couldn't help staring at her for a moment before a boyish smile crept over his face. "I'm gonna be a papa again? And Olivier's gonna be a frère?"

"Oui," she replied, her accent making the French word sound belle in his ears," And Ah'm gonna be a mom again."

He laughed and pulled her into his lap, kissing her with all the passion and love he could muster.

"Je t'amie Rogue," he said softly, leaning his forehead against hers.

"Ah love you too Remy. And Remy? Merry Christmas sugah."

"Merry Christmas."