The second time she broaches the topic, he holds his breath, and Rogue wonders for a moment if she shouldn't have. He doesn't answer right away, finishes shaving, wipes his face dry, then turns to look at her. She sees a warning in those eyes.

"You sure, chère?"

She nods.

But there are still storm clouds in Remy's eyes. "If we want more, we can always adopt," he points out. He was adopted himself.

But she shakes her head. She wants her own children of her own flesh. Hers and Remy's.

Finally, he relents. "D'accord. We'll go talk to Hank."