Disclaimer: I do not own the x-men. I am making about...oh, $0.00 an hour in the making of this story.

Alright. One of these days, I am going to actually address the challenges that this entire story was based on. This challenge was actually proposed by EternalEyes on the Gambit Guild website. The conditions are: having "Sweet Southern Comfort" by Billy Jewel, "Whiskey Girl" by Toby Keith, or "Mississippi Girl" by Faith Hill be sung in a car by Remy or Rogue; have the words "Scoundrel" " Sexy" and " Pot Roast"; and contain the phrase "Wiggling her toes playfully." How I got a jewel robbery and car heist from all that, I have no idea, but it's all there, I swear.

Because of the holidays, my updating is a bit sporadic, but hopefully by the time classes start, I will have worked up some sort of a routine.

Muchos Gracias totainted-angel666, my very first reviewer! You rock!

Some Days...

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Scott checked his watch again, clenching his jaw in annoyance. He, Bobby, and Piotr were standing beside a huge, complicated fountain that spewed strips of water in every which direction from the mouths of various animals. After scanning the main foyer of the mall one more time, his gaze settled on the marble alligator in front of him. He scowled at it, but all it did was spit pink- tinted water back at him.

"I totally couldn't find her anywhere. It's like she disappeared or something!"

Scott turned to find the head of Kitty poking out of a nearby pillar.

Bobby, who had been leaning against the column, jumped up and dropped his bags, spilling an array of magazines and candy. "Don't do that!" He leaned down to quickly hide the content of the magazines.

"Sorry." Kitty stepped through the pillar and bent to pick up a few cases of Snow Caps, tossing them in the bag, intentionally smothering the photo of a scantily-clad Paris Hilton.

"Rogue iz twenty minutes late. I hope somezing did not happen to her," came the deep rumble of Piotr Rasputin's voice. Scott had always been amazed that such a dangerous and intimidating looking young man could have such a gentle demeanor. The boy was modestly standing off to the side, honest concern filling his eyes.

"Naw, Pete, She's, like, probably just off sulking somewhere and lost track of time."

"Or is doing this just to piss us off. She always tries to be so difficult," Bobby said as he straightened, pulling his bags close to his chest. "We should just leave her. See how she likes it."

Scott stepped in, "I don't think that will be necessary, Bobby, but you are right: Rogue needs to tune down the attitude. We'll save that for the professor." He sighed. "Let's load up the car while we're waiting." He began to march to the main exit with an agitated pace, the three teenagers struggling to keep up behind him.

As he approached the atrium leading to the revolving doors, he noticed a growing crowd pressing their noses against the window, ignoring the police officers trying to herd them back. The doors were blocked by a couple of uniforms who looked as if they were trying to reassure a gaggle of old ladies on the verge of hysteria. The entire scene was loud and chaotic. Leaving the kids behind, Scott pushed through the crowd, managing to squeeze his way over to one of the officers. "Sir, what's going on here?"

"A hostage situation outside." The cop broke off, swooping down to catch a giggling twelve- year- old running past. "Who's kid is this!...don't worry sir, we have the situation under control. You are perfectly safe in here." Picking the squiggling kid up under his arm, the cop rushed off.

Scott returned to the waiting teenagers and explained the situation. By the time he took his second breath, Kitty was already bouncing in place excitedly.

"We can help, we can help!" she squealed, pulling on Bobby's t-shirt, causing his head to bob up and down with her movements.

"Chill, man!" Bobby ripped out of her grasp. The neck of his shirt was stretched and uneven, half of it hanging down below his collarbone. "Crap."

Scott was still looking around the room. "No...it seems like the police are dealing with everything okay. We'll stick close and act only if we are needed." He fingered the visor in his pocket almost unconsciously. He kept it around him at all times, exactly for situations like this.

"Oooo! This is gonna be so fun!" Kitty tried to grab onto Bobby again to aid in her hopping, but he dodged out of the way.

"Calm down, Kitty! Probably nothing is going to happen. This stuff happens all the time."

"It's Shadowcat on the job, Iceman!" she whispered dramatically before breaking out into giggles.

Bobby rolled his eyes. "Where is Rogue when you need her? She can keep you tethered."

"Yeah, where is Rogue, anyway? She's gonna miss all the fun!"

Ignoring the bantering of his friends, Piotr strolled closer to the mass of people. Because of his height, he was able to easily look above their heads and out the window. What he saw made his eyes widen. He turned back to his group. Kitty and Bobby, who were still arguing half-seriously back and forth, and Mr. Summers, looking blank as if he were thinking up one of his intricate strategies. Poitr looked back outside for a moment, then yelled across the room, his voice easily carrying across the noise of the crowd. "Um, guys? I zink I found her."

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Rogue closed her eyes as she was lead from the alleyway. Some days...

The shouting from the police ceased for a moment when they came into view, then doubled in volume after the situation registered. Cops jumped in and out of cars, positioning themselves into a sort of geometric pattern as shotguns and pistols flowed into their hands, pointing right at them. The whole maneuver looked like a well-choreographed dance. Under better circumstances, Rogue would have clapped.

A burly man wearing a crinkled white button-down with an open sports coat crouched uncomfortably behind an open car door and pulled out a megaphone. "Son, there's no reason to get yourself into this kind of trouble. Why don't you let her go and we'll talk about this." The attempt to sound concerned and understanding was marred by the mechanical tone that came through the contraption in his hands.

Behind her, trenchcoat guy yelled something so deeply accented that Rogue and the officer shared a moment of confusion. The man continued to push her with his body while gripping the knife. Strangely, he seemed almost gentle with the way he held it just above her collarbone.

They reached the asphalt and Rogue would have fallen flat on her face tripping over the curb if the man's arm had not righted her. He stopped to make sure she had regained her balance. She was about to turn around to remark something snide, but was pushed back into motion.

They passed by the first cop car, turning slightly to the side to keep them in view. They passed the second car, the third. Why aren't they doing anything? Rogue wondered as she watched the policemen staying completely still, only their eyes and their guns moving, tracing their movements. The guy with the megaphone was still blabbering unconvincing words of motivation, but she blocked them out, shifting uncomfortably under the tall man's grasp. She was not too surprised to notice that the warm breath hitting her cheek made her more wary than the blade at her throat.

"Which one?"

Rogue snapped back into reality. "Huh?"

Mr. Trenchcoat made an impatient humph behind her. "Which car?"

"Oh. Umm..." She pointed to the yellow hummer.

The man stopped. She could imagine him looking down at the top of her head. "Y'gotta be kiddin' me," he mumbled under his breath.

Rogue rolled her eyes as she was pushed in that direction.

When they reached the side of the car, the man held his hand in front of her face. "Keys."

"What? Ah don't have the keys! Ah didn't drive here!"

Another bitten curse, then a shuffling behind her. The man pressed against her back as he struggled with something in his pocket. She was still fighting the little flurries in her stomach as he reached backwards to stick something in the lock. A bit of metal scraping, some clicking, then she heard the electric car locks spring open.

Man, Ah needa learn how ta do that, she thought as she was pushed into the car all the way into passenger seat. On the way, her knee painfully hit against the shift stick. "Oww! Seriously?"

"Sorry," the man mumbled as he got in and bent his head to look under the steering wheel.

"Oh, no problem!" she bit back sarcastically.

The man ignored her remark as he began fiddling with a few wires. Within five seconds, the engine roared to life and the wheels squealed as the car jerked into motion. The shouting reached a peak and there were a few gunshots that ricocheted off the back bumper. The firing stopped immediately after it was evident that with the trenchcoat dude's erratic driving, it would be impossible to pop the tires. The big lug of a car darted down the wrong side of a one-way entrance, skittering from side to side, almost barreling into the vehicles parked in the margin.

At the last minute, there was a sharp, red beam that cut across her vision, nipping her side-view mirror. The car jerked frantically in response. Oh, sure, Cyclops shows up as soon as the car's in trouble! As there were no other beams to follow, Rogue assumed that Mr. Summers was still in shock after actually hitting his baby. Priorities, priorities, she supposed.

They peeled out of the parking lot, narrowly dodging some incoming traffic. Sirens began to blare behind them. Through the slightly smoking mirror, she saw half a dozen blue and whites chase after them.

Rogue crossed her legs underneath her and sighed, lowering her head to rest her palms on her forehead. She looked back up as the knife that held her hostage was tossed into her lap.

The man's lips stretched into wide, impish smile. "Seatbelts!"

A truly grateful thanks to all my reviewers: tainted-angel666, Ishandahalf, Rogue6787, prexistence, Chica de Los Ojos Café (pretty name), sakura5tar, Freak87, enchantedlight, angw, and AmberEyes (who is partially responsible for the creation of this fic)