X-Men go to the amusement park.
Disclaimer (to the tune of "Oops, I did it Again"):
Oops, I gotta say this! I don't own a thing; I'm not getting paid. Ooohhhh, so please don't sue my ass, X-men are so Maaaaaaaarvel's! This song is Britany Spears's…crap.
Thank you, thank you very much.
(Kay, sorry. Friend played that song over and over and over and over again last night. I just had to do that.)
Enjoy
The sun was shining, birds were singing, she had the whole damn courtyard to herself, and a beer in her hand; what could go wrong? The answer came up and exploded near her ass, making her to leap about a foot in the air. She fell to the ground from twenty feet up cussing black and blue, ready to kick the shit out of the one who disturbed her peace.
A soft swoosh told her she was wrong about being alone and the charred bit of leaf told her what had caused the boom.
Black boots and the bottom of a trench coat floated into her line of sight from her spread-eagle stance on the grass. The soft scent of smoke told her who it was; Remy LeBeau; Gambit; Cajun; Swamp Rat. Rogue's favorite person.
Not wasting any time, she grabbed one leg and the coat and flipped him hard onto the turf, landing him in a satisfying "Oomph" and had his arms and legs pinned before he could move. Demon red eyes met hers and she had to work very hard not to smile. The Gambit has that effect on people.
After a brief moment of Southern/French swearing Gambit attempted to reason. "Rogue, cheri; T'was an accident; how was I to know de leaf would charge?" His voice was husky from getting thrown and heavily accented from the language transition.
"Y'oughta know better, Cajun. Now I gotta keep ya here 'till you 'pologise real nice." Lactic acid was builds up in everyone's arms, so she sat on his chest and waited. He shrugged as best one can with one's shoulders pinned under by a trench coat and smiled lazily at her. It's the kind of smile that is given in warm, dark evenings; a thousand watts that would've turned a lesser woman to mush; the smile that made her want to either French him good, or challenge him to arm wrestling. She'd done both.
"I 'appen to like it here. E'tu?"
"Eh, not bad. You're gettin' too muscled up Hon. Get some meat." She bounced slightly on his stomach, earning another "oomph" and an angry glare. Seeing that look made her smirk and him frown harder. Very gratifying, but still…
"How bout this; race ya to the falls, loser skinny-dips and buys lunch."
He cocked an eyebrow. "Bikes?"
She nodded.
"Rogue, it's spring; de water will be freezing!" nod again, "and you want de loser to go butt naked?" nod. He sighed, a long breath of cigarette smelling heat on her face, blowing stray wisps of hair out of his eyes and scrutinized the white streaks. "You're crazy."
"Yup, now go!" she took off for the garage with him close on her heels.
Rogue's hair—streaks and all—blasted back as she skidded up to the white water and a cool mist hit full on. Pulling off her jacket and smiled at the clouds; after a shit load of turns she'd lost him. The air was laden with the scent of pine, cold and—damn it to hell and back—smoke. Gambit leaned against his bike, grinning like hell. She had the insatiable urge to take that cigarette he was dragging on and shove it up his…never mind.
"Take it off, cheri!"
She smiled sweetly and started stripping. If I'm gonna do it, I better do it good.
She got half way through pulling off her jeans when the communicator started up.
"X-men, report immediately to my office."
The Professor. Gambit swore under his breath. Eh, what could de old bat wan' now? Couldn't he wait 'till she gets down to de—?
"C'mon trailer park, let's move it out."
Pulling on her jeans, Rogue hopped over to her bike, watching a much-disappointed Gambit mount his.
"Mebbe some other time, Cajun." She mocked as they pulled out.
His frown lightened, "Mebbe so, cheri, but when it happens, I see all de goods."
"I'll show ya mine if y'all show me yours." And took off down the stretch of highway.
The X-men were gathered in the professor's office. All of them were looking very sullen except for Scott, and were wondering like Gambit had, why the Professor couldn't wait just a little longer.
"Team, I have a mission for you."
They all waited expectantly. Charles smiled, "There is a large Six Flags amusement park in California."
They waited again. "I want you to go there."
Scott examined him quizzically. "Why?"
Charles sighed. "I—want—you—to—go—there—to—have—FUN."
Jubilee let a whoop and hugged the Professor. "Yes! We're goin' to CA! Oh, sun, beaches and surfer studs, here I come!!"
The rest looked blankly at her, then at the professor. The light slowly dawned.
"Ya mean, no work? No bad guys? Roller coasters?" With each word Rogue's eyes bulged out a little more. Charles nodded.
"We leave at 0600 hours tomorrow."
Scott glared at her. "Rogue, you do know that I'm the commander and leader of this team?"
A swish of her coat was all he got in response.
The sun was unbearably hot and Scott was sweating from chasing after Rogue and Gambit. Storm quietly strolled beside him, wrinkling her nose in distaste at the traffic, trash and population.
Rogue was like a child in a candy store, darting from one booth selling souvenirs to another with chocolate covered banana's
"Shut up, One-eye and take that stick outta you're ass."
"We're going on Roar first and—"
"Noooooo waaay, we start out slow; how 'bout the swings?"
Rogue patiently turned around and grabbed two fistfuls of Scott's shirt, " WE DON'T HAVE TIME FOR YOUR NAMBY-PAMBY, STICK UP YOUR ASS, AT-IT-TUDE!!!!!" she straightened out his shirt and smiled, "If you wanna go and ride the freaking pony rides, then ya'll go righ on ahead; We're headed for them loops."
Jubilee muttered something like "You go, girl," but it was too low for anyone to notice.
Gambit, fearing for a fight, stepped between frustrated belle and two-shoes Boy Scout, "How 'bout we visit de food stands first, non? Den we decide how we get some thrills?"
Rogue nodded grimly, glaring at the red-eyed Cajun as well as Scott, who readily agreed.
Six cokes, ten hot-dogs and four pretzels later, they were locked into Roar. Scott looked up at the first hill; "Oh shit,"
Rogue looked a bit bored and fidgeted with the safety bar. "Y'know it'd be lots more fun if I…"
"Don't even think about it, Rogue. You and Storm may be able to fly but the rest of us would—"
"Eh, don't ferget about me, one-eye."
"Okay, besides Wolverine's regenerative thingy, oh shit, here we go."
The cart lurched upwards and Wolverine's stomach was left at the start.
"CHK, CHK, CHK, CHK, CHK, CHK, CHK…AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!"
Mid-scream, Rogue became aware that the pole over her lap was glowing red.
"Sugah!!" she tapped Gambit on the shoulder. She had to yell a bit over the sound of the roller coaster and his Southern/French, under-the-breath swearing. "Your hands!!"
"No fucking way, chere!!"
The pole exploded, sending small shards of metal all over their cart. Gambit's swearing went up four decibels and he grabbed two fistfuls of seat. Storm finished the article on New Zealand butterflies. Rogue sighed and rested her elbows on the cart edge as they finished the ride.
"BLUHHHG!!" Gambit and Wolverine were bent over the garbage can outside of Roar, paying homage to the plastic lined altar. Scott sat with knees pulled up to chest, pale and unseeing.
"Ah, come on Scotty; you fly the Nighthawk doing mach 5 and loop de loops and you freak at a few down-hills?"
Gambit's stomach felt somewhat like the late pole in the cart he had just been in.
"Uuuuuuuggggghhhh. Chere. Kiss Gambit so he can die happy."
Rogue started rubbing her thumb and forefinger together.
Gambit lifted his head again. "What de hell are you doin' chere?"
"This is the world's smallest record player playin' 'My Heart Bleeds Purple Piss for you'." She started doing it with the other hand. "In stereo."
She turned and inspecting the little map, took off in the direction of Cong. Jubilee took one look at those loops and spins and with a whoop, ran after her. Storm quietly left for the coast. The three guys looked at each other.
"We stick to the pony rides." Together they headed for the swings.
Like it? I wrote right after I could see straight after a party. REVIEW OR I, THE TWINKIE GODDESS WILL COME TO YOUR HOUSE AND STUFF YOUR SLIPPERS AND PILLOWS WITH OVERGROWN TWINKIES FROM MY OWN TWINKY TREE!!!!!!!!!!!!! I KNOW WHAT YOU'RE DOING THIS SUMMER!!!!!!!!!