Things all began to move very fast then. Hank encouraged me to always have a healthy snack packed, seeing how likely I was to stop at a drive thru if I felt the slightest temptation. Now, I was only eating meals prepared by the most health obsessed nut in the world. Five weeks in, the circulatory system was developing. Five weeks in... Also meant it was time for something.
There were six pregnancy tests on the table in front of me. Waiting the necessary five minutes to “identify the hormones” as Hank put it. I was beginning to wonder about his level of commitment to this whole situation since the beginning. He was sitting on the couch next to me, Logan leaning against the wall on one side of the room and Remy was sitting on the pool table on the other.
I leaned back on the couch, awaiting the inevitable. One pink line meant not pregnant. Two pink lines meant pregnant. So basically, everyone in the room was focussed on the small birch coffee table in the centre of the room. I glanced around, my arms folded across my chest as I tried to find something to occupy myself with. “So.” I said awkwardly. “How bout them Yankees?”
Logan rolled his eyes at me, and Hank just took my hand. A mild suggestion to just keep my mouth shut. Not that it was necessary much longer. The first test was finished. And like dominos, the rest formed quickly after. I have never seen a more menacing pair of pink lines on a little pee stick in my life. Logan didn’t move, he knew from Hank’s reaction which was a bright grin. Remy kneeled next to us and looked carefully, and with a nod, kissed me on the top of the head and left the room claiming he had an errand to run.
Logan watched, his glare not fading till Gambit was a good distance away.
“When can we find out who the father is?”
Hank hesitated answering a moment. Clearly thinking about it. He took a deep breath and looked at me. “There’s a test we can do when you’re between eleven and thirteen weeks I believe. It is usually used to check for Down Syndrome and other genetic disorders and I have heard of a few cases where they can use this to determine paternity.”
“Sounds good to me.” I said getting up, wanting to get out of this room.
“What is it?” Logan mumbled. His voice a thick monotone, but demanding.
“It’s chorionic villus sampling; CVS.” Hank explained. “It takes cells from tiny finger like projections on the placenta called the chorionic villi and sends them for genetic analysis.”
He wasn’t convinced. “Is it safe?”
I was surprised to hear him ask so many questions. He wasn’t the type to show concern in anything.
“I’ll research the risks.”
“You do that.” With that Logan upped and left, but not without me excusing myself from Hank’s presence and following him out.
“You alright?” I asked cautiously behind him.
He took his time turning around to look at me. “I’m fine.” My eyes narrowed, so he just shrugged. “I’m trying to picture this play out is all,” he smiled down at the ground. “S’not like the kid’ll lack some male role models.” His posture said he was talking about Remy, his insinuating glance pointed to Hank.
I caught the underlying tone in his voice. “Hank’s just trying to help.”
“I know.” He murmured. “So how are you?”
I shrugged, imitating him slightly. “A little nauseous, Hank says it’s normal.”
Logan shook his head, taking a step towards me, he leaned over me. Looming. “No, I mean how are you?”
I couldn’t help but giggle a bit. “I’m fine. Ask me again when I’m fat.”
It was interesting to watch his expression change so quickly. Automatically from understanding to confusion and absolute amusement. “I forgot about that. Pregnant women think they’re fat.” He folded his arms across his chest with a small smile. His amusement was a little irritating to me, I simply couldn’t help but feel the desire to dish out a string of profanities.
“I won’t be sexy when I’m round Logan.” I muttered.
He sensed how agitated I was, and grew smug at that as well. But his hands found my hips and pulled me up against him as he leaned in, his chest puzzlingly perfect to press mine against. “We’ll see.” He murmured under his breath, like he didn’t want me to hear him. With that he leaned in slightly, his eyes focussed on my mouth. All my thoughts were focussed on one fact alone. The depressing fact that since I was no longer drunk, it wasn’t the alcohol’s influence that had sent those feelings through me making it so hard to resist him. It was me and me alone. So, like any awful unfaithful girl with a sexy hunk leaning in to kiss her, I succumbed.
“Oh! You two are still here.” Hank interrupted making Logan and I leap apart faster than two teenagers caught on their parent’s couch. He smirked a bit, but chose not to comment on it. “I’ll need some blood from both of you, I’m going to run a few tests.”
***
I had just swam twenty lengths in the outdoor pool, attempting to get some form of work out this week. It was depressing thinking about no physical exercise for nine months, but seeing as I was already exhausted... I had difficulty imagining myself doing this much when I was a balloon belly. I sighed lightly as I climbed onto the ledge of the pool trying to soak up some sun. I laid out my towel on a lawn chair and lay on my stomach, taking this time to tan my back.
I had only been there for a few minutes before I was interrupted. Jean walked by with that irritatingly flawless and toned body of hers, set out her towel and sat next to me, leaning back with sunglasses and a small smile.
It was difficult to feel sexy in my favourite olive green bikini with her in that skimpy red one, a little too revealing around the bottom and a little too perky in the front. I was pale, she was tanned. Her hair fell halfway down her back in long perfect auburn curls. My hair only just past my shoulders, was messy and still dripping from my swim. I felt like a duck next to Cinderella.
“So Rogue,” She said sweetly. “How are you?”
This was strange, considering Jean and I never honestly spoke. “I’m fine.”
“Missed you at training.” She commented quietly. “Logan doesn’t often excuse anyone.”
I felt myself go a little rigid, she can’t know anything. “Guess it’s just my charm.”
“He said it might be a while before you’re back.” She continued as she lathered suntan lotion onto her legs. “I was wondering why.”
I clenched my teeth slightly. Something told me she already knew. Taking a deep breath I glanced over at all the exposed skin on both of us, and considered the damage I could do touching her, trying to figure out what she knew. Instead, I tried to be diplomatic. “Did you read my mind or did you trick it out of someone?”
Her smile grew, a small agitating gesture. “I don’t have the same self restraint as the professor.”
I glared at her whole heartedly. “Obviously.” I hissed, thinking about her ‘other side.’
She clearly understood what I was referencing, and her eyes grew red with fire. “So when’s the happy announcement?” Her voice was taunting.
I stood, grabbing my towel off the chair so that I was above her. “I don’t know. When’s the happy announcement that you’re not a natural redhead?” Okay not my best insult but the fury in my stomach was beginning to make me sick with anger.
She rolled her eyes at me, as she got up off her seat with model like form. “Y’know Rogue. There’s a word for girls like you.”
I folded my arms across my chest. “Fertile?”
She just continued to glare at me, placing one fragile hand on her hip with a light laugh. “Let’s see how this all works out for you.” She said smugly and started to walk away. “Oh right,” she said over her shoulder. “Remy’s looking for you.”
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Well this took a while indeed. However it was a drawn out weekend. I was at comic con, dressed as our favorite lass. (Rogue DUH) In her leather suit. So, that and Wolverine kept me occupied.
Chapter End Notes:
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