Amber Lady

A small smile tugged at her lips as she looked beyond the clouds, past the moon’s pale glow. What a year it had been. A whirlwind. Chaotic. Unpredictable. Rogue let out a quiet chuckle—eventful was putting it lightly.

Rogue had come to realize that Kitty Pryde may inadvertently have had a lot to do with where she and Remy are today. There was that mission. One Kitty had orchestrated. Sending her and Remy to a couples therapy retreat. Of all places. At first, the mere idea had irritated her—therapy? And with him? After everything? Yet, in some odd, messy way, it had worked. They’d unpacked their baggage—and found themselves closer than they’d ever thought possible.

Though she definitely didn’t imagine “getting closer” would involve clones, emotional landmines, and nearly losing their lives and powers in the process. “Classic us,” she mused with a shake of her head. 

And then, it happened.

What had started as a celebration for Kitty and Piotr’s wedding turned into something entirely different. They’d arrived as guests, only to find themselves at the center of a ceremony of their own. In a single, unplanned moment, the day transformed into something neither of them had foreseen—yet it felt undeniably right. 

Remy had proposed to her.

There was no hesitation on her part. It was an immediate yes, regardless of how crazy it may have been. She couldn’t have been happier for it.

Rogue glanced down at her left hand, a soft smile spreading across her face as the glimmer of the band on her ring finger caught the light. What had started as the most spontaneous of decisions had turned into one of the most beautiful, unforgettable moments of her life.

Even their honeymoon, meant to be a quiet escape, had turned into yet another adventure—this time in space, thanks to Kitty once again. “There really is no such thing as uneventful with the LeBeaus,” Rogue mused, the corners of her mouth lifting. Although she was sure that Deadpool crashing it didn’t quite put Remy in the best of moods.

Amid the chaos, however, her powers had spiraled out of control, wild and unpredictable, leaving her uncertain if she’d ever regain command. Insecurity had crept in, familiar and unwelcome. Yet, no matter how turbulent things became, and now matter how much she retreated back into pushing him away, he had never left her side. 

And now here she was, standing on the edge of a year that hadn’t defeated her.

She thought back to all those moments that now brought her on this rooftop. A place where she calls home. It hadn’t been easy—it had stretched her, scarred her, and shaped her—but it had brought her here. To this rooftop. To this home. To him. He’d once told her she was his home, and now she knew the truth of those words. 

“The cats are all settled,” his voice broke through her brief thoughts, “We also can’t forget the champagne,” 

She turned to Remy with a smirk, watching him slip through the rooftop window with effortless grace. “He’s such a cat dad,” she thought, stifling a laugh. But deep down, she couldn’t deny it—she’d come to love Figaro, Oliver, and Lucifer just as much so. “And I’m definitely a cat mom,” she added silently.

Remy emerged fully, his usual trench coat draped over him, though the layers beneath hinted at the chill of the night. In one hand, he balanced two empty flutes and a bottle of champagne, his movements smooth and confident, as if the cold air didn’t dare touch him.

“Wouldn’t want to tempt bad luck, Cajun,” she teased.

Remy handed an empty flute towards her, “Well, good thing we’ve got this extra bottle left over from our wedding, non?”

Her brow arched playfully. “Did the bartenders not notice you swiping that?”

“The bartenders were definitely not looking,” he laughed, popping the cork with a practiced ease. The champagne bubbled into her glass, then his, as he set the bottle carefully on the ground.

“You just couldn’t resist stealing something on our actual wedding day?” she laughed, shaking her head in amused disbelief.

“Can’t let a bottle this good go to waste,” he added with a playful wink, “ ‘sides it’s vintage.”

Rogue shook her head, a playful smile dancing on her lips. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love it,” he quipped without missing a beat, his grin as mischievous as ever.

She shrugged, feigning nonchalance, though the sparkle in her eyes betrayed her, “I do.”

He gave her cheeky smile, before pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead as he pulled her into his arms, holding her close.

“Black-eyed peas are done?” she asked, her voice muffled slightly against his chest as she snuggled closer to him.

He nodded, his grin never wavering. “With greens, of course. Gotta cover all our bases.”

Rogue stepped closer, nestling into his side as his arm wrapped around her, the warmth of the moment chasing away the winter chill. “As much as I love traditions,” she murmured, “I have to admit, Remy, I was starting to think they didn’t work.”

He pressed a kiss to her hair, letting his lips linger for a moment. “Didn’t you tell me you skipped your usual traditions last year?”

Her gaze lifted to meet him, a playful glint in her eyes. “Yes, ‘cause I decided to try something new.”

“And what was that?” he asked, his curiosity piqued.

“I ate 12 grapes. Under a table. Bumped my head by accident afterwards. Also left my place a mess ‘cause supposedly it’s bad luck to clean it on New Year’s Day.”

Remy chuckled, his eyes lighting up with amusement. “Ha! And look what that got you—a new husband.”

Rogue grinned, her fingers brushing his cheek. “And a new tradition, sugah.”

“Funny,” he teased, tilting his head with a smirk. “Didn’t see you crawling under a table tonight with your grapes.”

“That's not what I meant,” she shot back, rolling her eyes but failing to suppress the smile tugging at her lips. “And, just so you know, I don’t think I can handle another messy New Year’s Day living space so I cleaned yesterday.”

“Quoi? Already forgetting the mountain of clothes on the floor?” he teased, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes.

She raised a brow, “What mountain of clothes?”

He leaned in with a wink. “I'm talking about the pile of clothes that’ll be on the floor later, chère. If you catch my drift.”

She met his gaze, her grin widening. “Well... I did say something about starting a new tradition.”

Before Remy could fire back another playful remark, the crowd below erupted in excitement, their voices rising in a jubilant wave. The countdown began, each number echoing through the crisp night air. Smiling, Rogue and Remy began to join in, their anticipation growing with every beat, their shared energy crackling like the fireworks soon to come.

“THREE!”

“TWO!”

“ONE!”

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!”

They raised their glasses, the soft clink of crystal marking the start of something new.

A whole new year. 

After taking a slow sip of their champagne, Remy turned to Rogue, his gaze soft but full of meaning. With a gentle touch, he reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering just a moment longer than necessary to caress her cheek. Rogue’s hand instinctively rose to meet his, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver through her. She softened beneath his gaze, her heart racing as she leaned in, their lips meeting in a kiss that was both tender and slow, carrying the unspoken promises of everything yet to come—and the weight of everything they’d already survived together.

Rogue leaned in close, her breath warm against Remy’s ear as she whispered huskily, “How about we see fireworks somewhere else, Cajun?” Her lips curled into a teasing smile, her fingers curling around his with a gentle pull.

Remy’s grin deepened, his heart racing at the promise in her voice. Without a word, he let her lead him back inside, the world around them fading into the background.

Above them, fireworks burst into vibrant blooms, painting the night sky with streaks of color. And neither of them looked up. For their focus remained solely on each other, celebrating the long and winding journey that had led them to finally find their way back home to each other.