Her mutation is viciously in evidence that night, and it draws a raised eyebrow from Remy. He puts the kids to bed early—over her and their protests—then sits her down on their bed and demands her to tell him what's wrong.

She blushes and studies her own fingers knotting and unknotting.

"Rogue," he prods.

"I'm getting fat," she mutters abruptly.

Remy blinks, then pulls her into his arms. "First of all, y' ain't." He lays a finger over her mouth to stop her protest. "Second, if y' ever do get all matronly, I'm still goin' to love you."