With a sad sigh, he reflected that he couldn't say Mommy was coming or expect to see Amanda in the room.  Amanda was still asleep, sleeping heavily because of the drugs used to treat her postpartum depression.  Which meant that every night for the past couple of weeks, he was the one to get up and take care of them.

         Melting into the shadows, he managed to locate the crib without turning on a light, and changed their diapers.  Then he picked up Janine and started to rock her asleep.  Being blue and furry, she  had a harder time dealing with wet diapers.   As he walked around the room, Kurt started to whisper a lullaby to the little one.  "Weisst  du, wieviel Sternlein stehen an dem blauen Himmelszelt?  Weisst du,  wieviel Wolken gehen weithin ueber alle Welt?"

       Her cries started to calm down, and he felt her relax, pushing her blue fur into his as she tried to warm herself up.  One small fist  grabbed a tuff of fur as she brought the other fist up to her mouth.  "Gott der Herr hat sie gezaehlet, dass ihm auch nicht eines fehlet: an  der ganzen grossen Zahl,"  he continued in a voice no louder than a prayer.

       "Your mother should be here," he thought as Janine fell asleep.  With an already practiced ease, he slipped her into the bassinet and picked up Katrina, who had stopped fussing when her sister had been picked  up, but was still awake.  He made it a point to spend equal time with both daughters.

         Katrina was quite different than her sister.  To start with, she was a normal human child, while her sister was a mutant.  Where her sister had started to explore and look around the room, Katrina was content to focus on the face of the person who was holding her.  Janine demanded that she be walked around,  Katrina would love to be held.  Already, two months and three days into their stay on the earth, the sisters were as different as the sun and moon.

         Still Kurt loved every little detail about them, every one of the ten fingers on Katrina and the six on Janine.  He loved them equally but cherished them differently.  Janine would be so much like him as she grew up, Katrina would be a lot like her mother.  And they would also be so much their own person.

         Katrina started to make fussy sounds and he waited, debating on giving her a bottle.  Her diaper was clean, she wasn't too cold or hot, and he was paying attention to her.   The next meows let him know she really wanted food.

         Taking the bottle out of the mini fridge with his tail, he got  ready to feed his daughter.  "Daddy is being silly, isn't he?"  he asked in his native German.  Both his girls would be able to speak the language as if they had been born to it.

         He felt silly because he had spent half an hour talking to Logan about how his girls were doing earlier that night.  Kurt had known that hat he would love his daughters, he had done that before they were born, but he never knew that he would fall in love with them, telling everybody about the little details, feeling a rush of exhilaration by just being around them, needing to touch and hold them.

         "Mystique just let me know that she's set up a trust fund for you two," he told Katrina.  It was easier to talk to her because she was so placid.  "I still don't know what I want to do about it.  It would be nice not to have to worry about sending you two to college or helping set you up in an apartment."  He paused, remembering what the parenting books said about raising your children so that you could let them go one day.  His daughters were on loan from God.  "But do I want to let her in your lives in even such a small way?"

         Katrina nursed and looked at him with large, trusting blue eyes, reminding him of the absolute power he had over her life.  "I  just don't see her as a doting granny, do you?"  Janine started to wail,  demanding her bottle.  Kurt got her and started to carefully nurse the two of them using the over-the-shoulder bottle that had been a gift from Pete and Kitty.

         Starting to burp Katrina with his tail, Kurt continued his conversation, "And how do I give her a chance to prove that she is or  isn't a loving grandmother if I don't give her a small chance?"  Katrina spit up, missing his burping cloth completely. "Gracious," he  told her.  "Gracious, gracious.  Is that all?"

         Katrina quickly proved that she wasn't done yet.  "One little meeting," Kurt decided.  "Give her a chance to see the two of you and to see her reaction."  She sighed her approval.  With a little maneuvering, he managed to switch positions for his daughters.

         He caught a glimpse of the three of them in the window and marveled at how complete the picture was, him and his girls.  When Moira had diagnosed Amanda's remoteness with the twins as postpartum depression, he hadn't known how he would manage.  But he was doing fine.

 ***

         Pete Wisdom cursed the idiot who had first suggested that sunrises were romantic.  The bleeding bugger didn't know what he was talking about or missing by waiting for sunrise.  But still his Kitty had always wanted to see the sunrise with Pete and, today, he was going to  give her the sunrise.  Even if it killed him.

         It hadn't been easy, pulling off this little surprise.  Not only did he have to make sure that Kitty had fallen asleep before creeping out of bed, he had to leave her in the nice big bed and start setting up every detail.  He had managed to hide the flowers out of Lockheed's way, but the dragon had melted the candles in the candle holder.  He then had to sneak back into their bedroom and get the emergency  candles that Kitty kept in her night stand for special occasions.  Kitty turned over in her sleep, the covers pulled down around her waist, and reminded Pete of what he was missing.

         After digging out the wax from the candle holder with the corkscrew that he had intended to use on the champagne, he set the table and mentally started to curse Lockheed for replacing the silver and china with plastic and paper plates.  Even the crystal goblets were now paper cups.  To express what he was feeling out loud would have woken up Kitty, and Pete had promised not to kill Lockheed.  But that didn't mean that Pete wouldn't give it a good try.

         "Pete?" Meggan gently whispered as she flew down beside him. "Rahne made breakfast for you two."  She placed the tray of  muffins and assorted fruit on the table and barely hid a smile at the Smurf  paper  cups.  "I see Lockheed knows what you've got planned."

         Pete nodded and pointed to Kitty's sleeping back before closing the door.  "I hear dragons are crunchy and taste good with peanut butter," he whispered as Meggan shuddered at the thought.  "Although, I guess he'd taste like chicken."

         Meggan just giggled and resolved to keep Lockheed busy for the next couple of hours.  Opening the basket, she pulled out two place settings with the Braddock family emblem on them.  "I thought you might  need these," she whispered, "And Moira said to tell you that if you break Kitty's heart, she'll turn your stomach into her new set of bagpipes and Rahne said to remind you that she's awfully fond of haggis."  She chuckled as she flew away.

         The darkness had started to turn gray and Pete knew the sunrise wasn't far away.  Gently laying out a robe he had bought for Kitty on the bed, he leaned over and kissed her.  "Mornin'."

         Kitty's eyes flew open as she saw what time it was.  "Pete?"  Sure, he knew about five o'clock in the morning, but she'd never believed that he was personally acquainted with it as anything but a late bed time.  But he was up and dressed.

         And how he was dressed shocked her.  Her Pete was still in the traditional black and white that he always wore, but... this outfit was freshly pressed, spotless.  The cut of the suit showed it to be tailor made.  And he was wearing the brand new tie that she had given him last week.  The one she joked about needing breaking in.  It hadn't been broken in yet.  And he didn't smell as strongly of Pete, not that familiar combination of scotch and tobacco mixed with whatever food products he had eaten that day.  He had showered, shaved, and taken time with his hair.

         "It's me, Pryde,"  He reassured her.  At her wide-eye disbelief, he lifted the top of his trousers to show his lime-green boxers.  She looked visibly relieved.  "I've got a little surprise for you on the balcony."

         She slipped on the robe he had laid across the bed and found matching slippers on the floor.  The newness of them was apparent. "Thanks..."  she muttered and pinched herself, expecting it to be a  dream.  Wincing at the pain, she realized that it wasn't a dream.

         Pete opened the door and let Kitty walk onto the balcony. "Ohhhh, Pete..."  she whispered.  "Thank you for this."

         "I'm not done yet,"  he told her as the sun started to rise in the sky.

         Kitty wrapped his arm around her as they watched the sun rise.  As the darkness disappeared around them, she leaned back against him.   "Thank you," she said softly, afraid to break the moment.  For all Pete's coarseness, he had a wonderfully romantic side when he wanted.

         "There's more," he told her as he spun her around.  Dangling in his hand was a diamond Star of David.  "It occurred to me that our children might not like us to tell our five-year old grandchildren that Granddad asked Grandmother to marry him in bed so..."

        "Oh...."  Kitty whispered.  "Yes!  I'd love you... to... I want..." Her command of the English Language escaped her.  Lacking any other way to express herself, she threw herself into his arms.

         "I went shopping for a ring," After a moment, Pete tried to explain, wanting Kitty to understand his choice of engagement present.  "And every time I saw a ring, all I could think about is the way you hate  rings when you work on computers."

         A ring had always felt too tight for the freedom of movement that Kitty wanted.  "But I would have worn it."

         Pete shook his head as he kept explained.  "I wanted something you would have worn regardless, so I thought about earrings.  Then I realized that someday, when our daughter got old enough, you'll tell her about your grandparents and pass down your Star of David."  He paused, trying not to sound as sentimental as he was feeling.  "I thought maybe you could wear this with the old chain and still be able to pass down something from your grandparents when you pass down the Star Of David to her."

         Kitty looked at him and he started sweating.  It had made a lot of sense when he was picking out the necklace but maybe she hated the idea.  Finally she whispered, "Thank you...."

         "You like my idea?"  Pete asked out loud.

         Kitty swung her arms around his neck and tried to explain her  pause.  "I never told you this but I've always wanted my ring to be a  necklace.  You read my dreams and made them better."  She started sobbing.  "Thank you."

         Pete wordlessly slipped the necklace over her neck.  "Thank you," he whispered huskily.

 ***

         It was the darkest moment of the night in Salem Center, the part of the night that Gambit liked best.  Shadows had a way of dancing, trees scraping against the roof, and owls would gently call.  It was spooky but it was enticing.  The stars were shining and the moon was full, and crickets would chirp.  The contrast was something that Gambit found comfort in.

         The night whispered his name and demanded that he attend to its needs.  Become part of the shadows, part of its mystique.  It wanted him to embrace the duality and become one with it.  Still, he resisted the call and stayed on the roof.  Finally, when the wind through the trees started to whisper his name, he left and went inside the mansion.

         A light was on in Rogue's room and the door was half opened.  He paused outside and lifted a hand to rap on the door.  Before he could knock, though, Rogue opened the door, a roll of box tape dangling off her wrist like a bracelet.  "Unusual fashion accessory, non?"  Gambit joked.

         Rogue sighed and just opened the door.  "Come on in, Cajun." He looked in and saw a pile of boxes in the middle of the room, waiting to be taped.  "My sharpie ran out..." she offered as he looked around. Most of the boxes were marked 'Storage' and the contents were labeled.

         "Chere?"  Gambit looked at a box holding her X-Men uniforms and then back at her.  "What's goin' on?"

         Rogue sighed as she searched for words to explain the state of her room.  "Sam's best friend, Li'l Bit, is a singer..."  Gambit nodded, remembering his brief meeting with her and the way she'd seemingly rejected him for Sam.  "She's got a persistent stalker and Sam's got her talked inta acceptin' help from the X-Men—"

         Grasping at straws, Gambit offered, "And because you and Logan like country music th' two of you are goin' ta catch him?"

         Rogue shook her head. "She's offered me a job for the tour coming up."  She motioned to the bottle of hair dye and simply explained, "Ah'm takin' her up on it."

         "But she just got off a tour!"  Gambit got a sinking feeling in his stomach as he looked again at the boxes.  Rogue was packing up everything in her room.  "She dat worried?"

         Rogue nodded.  "Whoever it was just broke inta her hotel room and sprayed some nasty stuff all over the place."  After a moment, Rogue turned around in her room and pointed.  "Ah'm not happy here anyways.  Ah was happier waitin' tables and pickin' up after people than Ah've ever been as an X-man."  Gambit remembered that Rogue had loved the interaction and the flirt-but-don't-touch atmosphere of the restaurant she worked in.

         "Den why ya stay?"  Gambit couldn't understand why Rogue would stay if she wasn't happy.  They had seemed to patch up their problems, gone out on a few dates and relaxed.

         "Same reason Ah'm leavin'— you."  Rogue had her jaw set in a  stubborn angle as she said those words.  How Gambit loved that look on her face, how he loved her.  "Gambit, even if Ah could touch, Ah don't see how we could ever really make each other happy."  Suddenly, all  the comments of the last few weeks made sense.  Rogue had made the decision to leave a while back.

         Again, Gambit looked at her face and saw that pained look in Rogue's eyes.  No, they could never work, not as long as that shadow remained in Rogue's life, the same one he saw in her eyes.  He had hoped that she would have faced up to the past and could look forward to the future back when Emma had brought pressure against the Clinic or when Celeste had talked to her.  But Rogue never could admit what had happened to her as a child that caused her to not to want to be touched as an adult.  And for as long as that barrier remained between them,  they could never get together.

         Gambit sighed and nodded.  "De two of us like dis never could work..." he admitted.  It didn't mean that the second he heard she had gotten help, he wouldn't call her.  He loved her too much to ever accept that this decision was forever.  But, on the other hand, he loved her too much to stop her from doing anything she thought might make her happy.  And he loved himself too much to stay in a relationship that hurt him so much.

         Rogue only blinked in surprise at that statement.  Somehow, she had expected him to physically stop her from leaving, to put his foot down.  He'd been so patient and kind with her, and she appreciated it. She loved him but honestly didn't expect it to work out.  Men only hurt women or left them when they were needed the most.  It totally stunned her to think that he would step aside and let her follow her dreams.   "Thank you......."  There was nothing else to say.

         "When ya leave?"  Gambit didn't want to hear the answer.  But given the talks she had been having with the other X-Men, he knew it was going to be soon.

         "Ah promised Li'l Bit Ah'd be there tomorrow.  Everthin' is  packed now, except Ah've got ta dye muh hair."  The decision had been a long time in coming.  "What do ya think of me as a blonde?"  That  was an impulsive decision, an attempt to hide her identity.

         Gambit smiled regretfully, he had always loved blondes.  That  was one image that would haunt his dreams in the weeks and months and maybe years to come.  "Better ta let a professional dye yer hair.  Ah  remember dis one femme, she wanted ta be a red head but ended up a blonde because she went ta de wrong person."  It was babbling, but it put off the goodbyes for a second longer.  That was all he had left with Rogue now, seconds.

         Rogue nodded.  "Ah'll do that in New York then.  They use gloves to dye hair."  She looked around the room and blinked back  tears, promising herself that she'd come back someday.  Still, she had the feeling that everything would be different when she did.  "Ah'll have to go and get it done at an all-night place.  Ah've got the first flight out in the morning."

         Remy helped her bundle her stuff up and carry it out to the waiting car.  He then watched as she drove off.  And, finally, he melted into the night's shadows and disappeared.