I do not own any of the characters physically, spiritually, or mentally, and the choices of the aforesaid characters do not in any way reflect my own...mostly. It is set one year after Apocalypse's entombment.

Thoughts, "foreign language", telepathy. I will try my best with the accents, but they won't be great.

Love is patient .

Remy ground his teeth together as he waited for the tank of his motorbike to fill with gas. Every moment he spent here was one that he couldn't spend speeding north, on his way to rejoin with his heart. He glanced at his watch, to see to his astonishment that the last 30 minutes or so were actually only about five. Mus' be somet'in' wrong wit' it. He thought to himself, as the machine beeped, and his 'bike's tank finally filled up. He put the hose nozzle back on its hook, and walked into the shop, readjusting his glasses. A year ago, he would have just driven off without paying, but he had learnt that it was better to pay for some things. If he stole petrol, the next time he bought it the price would be higher. Also, he hadn't eaten since the morning, and he was hungry. As he stepped through the doors a wave of cool air hit him. It was a hot spring, especially here in Tennessee. He grabbed a sandwich and a bottle of water from the refrigerator, and took them up to the counter to pay. There was a large man there already, who seemed to be having an argument with the check-out girl.

"I'm sorry, sir, but that is not enough money. You're still two dollars ninety-five cents short. I can take off the coke, that'll make it so you have enough money."

"But I'm thirsty!" The man exclaimed. "I need the coke!"

"Well, sir, the water costs less, you could have that instead." She recommended. The guy was starting to annoy Remy. He had a really irritating voice, scratchy and dry, and slightly too high to be normal for a man of his size.

"But I don't like water! I want my coke! I can afford it; you're just making this up to get me to pay more. And then I bet you'll take that money and keep it for yourself. Probably stuff it down that tight shirt of yours, you bitch." Now that was going too far. This man was being unnecessarily rude to the poor girl. Sure, her top was a bit on the tight side, but so what? Most men would have taken that as a good thing rather than as something to insult the girl over. Remy knew that he would, had his mind not been filled with thoughts of Rogue. He laid a hand on the man's shoulder.

"Dere's no need t' insul' the femme like dat, homme.Jus' pay her de extra money an' den y' can be on y're way." However, this just made the man angry.

"Oh, and what do you know about it, you slimy southern scum. I bet you're just being nice to her so that she'll give you her number or something." And now Remy was angry.

"So, you t'ink dat de only reason fo' helpin' une femme ou' is t' get he' number? Dat's disgustin'. I was helpin' her b'cause y' were bein' such a batard. B'sides, I wanna pay fo' my stuff, so I can get goin'. How 'bout you?"

"I like New York in June!" (1) A familiar Australian accent announced from the door to the shop. "Remy-kins!" It continued, as Remy groaned inwardly. "Ol' Johnny here hasn't seen ya in months! Oy thought ya were giving me the slip!"

"Well, I wasn't, St. John. Now do y' mind? I'm trying t' get this homme 'ere t' pay 'is money."

"But Remy darling, we've just re-met! And look!" He pointed dramatically to the sky. "No petunias!" (2)

"Oui, de lack o' petunias is refreshin', bu' righ' now I'm planning on payin' and den leavin'. Je suis désolé, mais I do no' plan t' go runnin' aroun' wit' y' again. Dat time wit' helmet-head was bad enough, Remy has no wish fo' a repeat occurrence o' t' 'fishpaste' inciden'. (3) This sent the pyromaniac into fits of laughter, from which the word 'fishpaste' was occasionally audible.

Remy turned back to the man at the counter, only to find that he had leant over the counter and grabbed the girl by her shirt collar, trying to do up the buttons that were there only for decoration, and so therefore had no matching holes in the other side of the shirt. Remy took his bo staff out of one of his pockets and elongated it. Quickly slipping it between the couple at the desk and under the man's arms, he heaved backwards, pulling the man off balance. He let go of the girl, who ran through a door into the back-room, leaving Remy to deal with the large and angry man, and the still giggling Pyro. The man got to his feet and walked towards the thief in a menacing way.

"You're in with them, aren't you?" He demanded of the puzzled Remy. "The mutants! You're in league with the mutants!"

"You're not far off, mate!" Pyro exclaimed happily from his new-found perch above the drinks refrigerator. "You see, ol' Gambit there and me, we are mutants!" He began to laugh maniacally again, in severe danger of falling from his lofty perch.

"Now, y' don' wan' t' listen t' him." Remy quickly told the man, backing towards the exit. "I'm sure y' can tell dat e's not in 'is righ' mind. 'e was jus' talkin' nonsense back den. Ain't dat righ', Johnny?" He asked hopefully.

"Now come on, Remsy. Both you and oy know full well that we're both mutants. Oy've seen dose sparkly cards of yours. And what about your ey-mmph!" He was interrupted as Gambit pulled him off of the refrigerator and held his hand over the crazy Australian's mouth.

"What was he going to say?" Demanded the man. It quickly dawned on him. "Your eyes! That what he was going to say! Take off your sunglasses!"

"Non, why should I? Jus' so dat you can be satisfied? Y' wouldn't satisfy me an' give dat poor girl all de money you owed, why shoul' I give you de satisfaction o' seein' my eyes?"

"Why won't you take them off? Have you got something to hide?" John put in from the floor.

"Non, it's jus' they're incredibly comfortable. Soon ev'rybody will be wearin' dem." (4) He responded automatically.

"Enough of this!" The large man exclaimed, and snatched off Remy's sunglasses, revealing his red on black eyes. "Mutant!" The man exclaimed. He gave a cry of rage, and started coughing violently. Guess he was thirsty! Remy thought, before St. John interrupted again.

"Look, Remy! A lighter! He said excitedly, waving it about in the air.

"Merde." (5) John flicked it open, and the little flame quickly grew in size. It became a medium sized dragon, which flew up to the man, and hovered in front of him, fiery wings flapping.

"Please can I, Remy?" The Australian was hopping up and down. "I haven't chased anyone with a dragon for ages."

"Fine, bu' jus' 'til he leaves de shop. Den it's bye-bye, monsieur Dragon. D'accord?"(6)

"Fine." John huffed. The dragon stretched its neck up and roared silently, with John doing the voice for it. The man screamed, and ran out of the shop, closely followed by the dragon.

"John!" Remy snapped at him, and the dragon dwindled away, returning to the little lighter flame, which disappeared too, as John snapped it shut.

"You're no fun." He grumbled to Remy.

"Good. Now mebbe I can pay fo' my gas." He said, and returned to the counter, placing the water and sandwich that he had chosen earlier on its top. He rang the little bell on the counter, summoning the girl from the back room. She squeaked and cowered in the doorway.

"It's alrigh', mad'moiselle. My copin (7)'ere chased 'im away."

"M...m...mutant!" She stammered out, shaking.

"Oui, I am, bu' I promise I won' hurt y'. Al I wan' is t' pay f'r m' gas, water an' sandwich an' den be on m' way. The girl nervously approached the counter, and quickly swiped his food.

"De motorcycle, aussi." He told her. She glanced outside and added the number displayed on the machine outside to the total. He paid her, took the bottle and sandwich, and left the shop. On his way over, he drank half the water, and ate one of the two sandwiches. When he reached the 'bike he stowed the bottle and plastic sandwich box under the seat, putting on his helmet. As he drove to the exit, a police car entered the service station. It came around and pulled up next to him.

"Merde." He repeated.

"We don't want to detain you for long, son, but we got a call from here. Something about a fight in the shop, and a ginger Australian maniac. They also mentioned something about mutants. So, if you could just take your helmet off so we can check your hair colour, we'll be on our way. Remy obliged, tilting his helmet forward so that they could see his dark brown hair. As he did, St. John ran out of the shop. He stopped dead when he saw the police car, but something about Remy's partial removal of his helmet made him feel obliged to say something.

"Behold! King Arthur lives!"(8) The two policemen swung their heads around, and John took that opportunity to jump on the back of Remy's motorbike. Remy shot off, cursing as he went.

(1) From a movie called 'The Fisher King'. Recommended.

'I like New York in June, how about yoooooooo?

I like a busker's tune, how about yooooooo?'

(2) From 'The Hitch-hiker's Guide to the Galaxy' by Douglas Adams. Recommended.

(3) As far as I know, there has been no fishpaste incident between the two. I just put it in for funnies.

(4) From 'The Princess Bride', either the book or the movie is recommended.

(5) Shit

(6) OK?

(7) Friend

(8) During a battle in one of the endless stream of King Arthur films, a man rides up with a head stuck on a pike. He shouts "behold! King Arthur is dead!" Then a nearby knight raises his visor and shouts "behold! King Arthur lives!"

It is of course possible that John didn't know this, and is just insane. In fact, it is very likely. Please review!