Disclaimer: I own nothing. I am to a spiritual level beyond material possessions. Therefore, I must borrow everyone else's.

NOVEMBER RAIN: Chapter Three: See Spot Run

"So," Rogue filled the silence after the waitress had brought them water and taken their orders.

"So . . ." The silence returned.

"So. . .." And the silence remained.

"Let's try addin' another word to our conversation."

"Okay."

"See."

"See Spot."

"See Spot run."

"See Spot run far."

"See Spot run far away."

"Now that we're updated on Spot, how have ya been?"

"Not bad. Moved twice in de last two weeks; Petey's ear has been glued to de phone; John's been losin' his grip on reality; and I have been nominated as his lifeline."

"Did he win the million?" (1)

"Non, but it isn' just a 10 second phone call. If you d'ought he was crazy before, huh-huh, you are in for somethin' new. I have a new appreciation for BBC America and Nicktoons, 'cause now d'ere are at least a few times a day I don' have to worry 'bout takin' a lightnin' rod outta his hands."

"He's suicidal?"

"Not entirely. He's just really hurtin' from the Wanda thing. He's tryin' to occupy himself other ways and not considerin' things like reality."

"What did happen between him an' Wanda? She hasn' mentioned him in ages."

"Dat's 'cause she doesn' remember him."

Rogue didn't think she heard him right. "What?"

Remy took a drink. "Magneto decided dat she was causin' too much trouble for him. She wouldn' give him another chance wit d'eir relationship, so he had Mastermind fix up his first one for him. And, while he was at it, Mags d'ought he would teach John a lesson and erase all of her memories of him too."

"You're kiddin'?"

"Non."

"He actually screwed with his own daughter's mind 'cause he didn' like her boyfriend?"

"Oui. And de whole, 'I won' stop 'til I kill you, Dad,' thing."

"That's one dysfunctional family."

"Not anymore."

"What did Pietro do?"

Remy shrugged. "Don' know. Don' know if he even had any say in de matter. Magneto ordered him to get rid of anythin' of Wanda's dat would remind her of John or de asylum and to keep de Brotherhood quiet, but I don' know any more d'en dat."

"What would happen if she did see somethin'?"

Remy shrugged again. "Wanda got rescued 'fore Mastermind finished. He told Magneto he was done, but I have my doubts."

"Did ya ask him 'bout it? Mastermind, ah mean."

The Cajun nodded, then started to count on his fingers. "I asked nicely, got him drunk, threatened him, used blackmail . . .but I always end up in the same place."

"Nowhere," Rogue finished for him and leaned back in the booth.

"I wish," he mumbled before he thought about it.

"What do ya mean 'Ah wish?'" Rogue raised an eyebrow. "Where do ya end up?"

"Nowhere, like you said," he replied quickly.

"No, there's more ta it. Ya're holding somethin' back."

"Please let it go." Remy almost sounded like he was begging. This intrigued Rogue.

"No." After a few moments of silence, Rogue added, "Ah could be like Kitty and make up things 'til ya tell meh."

Remy tried to barter with nothing. "Only if you slip on d'ose pink hot pants you were talkin' 'bout." (2)

Rogue just looked at him.

After a few minutes of Rogue's scrutinizing glare, Remy caved. "All right, all right. You win. Every time I ask Jason 'bout it, I end up in Sabertooth's bed, naked." Rogue's eyes grew wide in surprise, and she struggled to hold in her laughter.

"Naked!" Rogue exclaimed, then burst out laughing. There was no containing it. Rogue laughed as the waitress brought over their food. Remy just fidgeted and picked at his potato wedges.

"Was Sabertooth ever there with ya?" Remy continued to play with his food without answering. "HE WAS!"

"Just de last time," Remy defended. "Been too scared to try again."

"Why don' ya just swipe one o' Magneto's helmets?" Rogue suggested. "He has ta have more than one. Then Mastermind couldn' use his powers on ya."

Remy looked up and stared at her, amazed. "Why didn' I d'ink of dat! Dat's a great idea! And dat's why I love you." And the moment after those words fell from his mouth, Remy's brain went into a panic, F-you Freud! F- you and your slips! Unsure if Rogue caught it, Remy didn't know if he should say something to cover it or totally ignore the words that fell like anvils on the table. He chose the latter option. "Dat's such a great idea!" he repeated. "Magneto's helmet. I knew d'ose d'ings were good for somethin' besides eattin' cereal out of." Remy searched her eyes for any clue to her thoughts.

"Ah hope ya wash them first," Rogue remarked. "Ah wouldn' want ta be eatin' sweat-flavored cereal." She picked up her cheeseburger and took a bite.

"So, dat's de funny taste!" Remy cracked. Rogue gave the bad joke half a chuckle before taking another bite. "Now you've hear 'bout my woes. What's new in your life?"

"Let's see . . . Evan left -"

"Who's Evan?"

"Storm's nephew. Black, skateboarder, basketball player, throws bones at people."

"Oh, him. I vaguely remember him."

Rogue filled him in on the situation with Pow-R8, Evan, the Morlocks, and Storm.

"Is dis Pow-R8 stuff still around?"

Rogue shook her head and washed down her food. "The Morlocks destroyed the factory here in Bayville, and the Professor told the owner 'bout the effects it has on mutants."

"Now de scoop on Evan is interestin', but I asked how you were?"

"When Ah asked 'bout ya, all ya did was talk 'bout John," Rogue pointed out.

"You want to hear 'bout moi?" Remy put his hand to his chest and looked up at the ceiling to remember what he has been doing. "I decided dis last time we moved dat I wasn' goin' to unpack my stuff, 'cause I figure we'll be movin' again in another week. So I'm livin' out of a coupla garbage bags and some boxes. John screwed up all of my CDs and tried to take a couple of d'em to Mexico. I got a cold from livin' on dat frickin' mountain, and I'm really glad you're talkin' to me again 'cause I was runnin' out of ideas to annoy you wit'."

"Ah'm glad Ah'm talkin' ta ya again too," Rogue confessed to her plate of food. She looked up hesitantly before continuing. "Ah almost called after ya sent the pajamagram. . ."

"How did you like it?"

"Ah have ta say, Remy," she smiled a little, "ya have good taste in women's clothes."

"You didn' get dat from my Rocky ensemble?" (3) Remy changed the subject. "Are you goin' to go back to work at Vinyl Vintage after d'ey reopen?"

"They aren' gonna reopen," she said with sadness in her voice. "Jamal's movin' his family back ta Detroit so he can be closer ta his mother. Ah guess she hasn' been doin' too well lately, an' his business was the only thing keepin' them here. Sly got some job with a DJ company, Lucas is panhandling, an' ah have no idea what happened ta Warren o' Ashley o' anyone else."

"Ashley probably workin' de gates of hell," Remy suggested.

"Ah think she might be workin' ta get inta Castro's good graces so she can take over after he dies."

"That's a dumb plan. Everybody knows Castro's gonna be cloned 'til de end of time."

"Ah don' know," Rogue said thoughtfully. "Anyone that has ta spend a lot o' time with Ashley might wish fo' death."

"Good point."

"Oh, an' Sly's girlfriend Ania's working at that coffee shop downtown, Izzy's. Ah saw her there the other day after school." Rogue and Remy continued their casual conversation while they ate.

"Where is he?" St. John Allerdyce wondered as he sat on the ground with his back up against the rear tire of the Acolyte vehicle. After knocking out Kurt with the flamingo, John found Piotr wandering around the junkyard with Kitty Pryde. They had a brief exchange, and Kitty slapped John across the face and left. He and Piotr searched Jake's but found no sign of their Cajun pal. The pair headed back to the vehicle in the movie theater parking lot to change out of their uniforms and to lose Pyro's flamethrowers. "You don't think the X-Geeks got 'im, do you?" he asked..

"Hum?" Piotr knew the Aussie was talking to him, but his thoughts were in dreamland, replaying his conversation with Kitty.

"The X-Men? Have Gambit?" he repeated, sounding annoyed.

"Uh, no. I doubt that very much," Piotr answered. "The only one left was Rogue, and she would not turn him in."

"Don't be too sure, mate." John had his pessimistic face on. "Women can be very spiteful."

Piotr replied without thinking, "Rogue is not Wanda."

John's voice grew in volume and temperament. "Who ever said anything about Wanda? I didn't say anything about Wanda. Why do you always assume that when I talk about women in general, I'm talking about Wanda? Stupid bloke."

Piotr sighed, but didn't respond. Silence fell between them for a few minutes.

John managed to throw his ex-girlfriend from his mind. He felt his stomache growl. "I'm sick of waiting. And I'm hungry. Wanna go grab a bite?"

"I think we should wait for Remy."

"Wait for Cyclops to release him from his iron maiden, ya mean?"

"I do not think Cyclops would be one to own an iron maiden."

"The bloke wears a thong. That means all bets are off." (4)

"We should wait here for Remy," Piotr insisted.

"Should we try his mobile again?"

"He still has his phone turned off from the theater. We already left him a message."

"I want to eat," John reiterated before pouting in silence.

Piotr tried to initiate the conversation again, to pass the time. "Kitty said the funniest thing . . . "

"Look, Rusty," John interrupted. "If you start talking with those big hearts in your eyes, I might have to chunder (5)."

Piotr shut his mouth. After a few minutes, John sighed loudly and reached for his pack of cigarettes. "Bloody hell!" he exclaimed. His pack was empty. St. John stood up with new energy. "I'm gonna go get some more smokes. Want anything? I might be able to find Kitty and buy back your manly dignity."

"No, I am fine," Piotr grunted. He slammed the car door to sit alone in the vehicle.

John paid his trite nature no mind as he walked a few blocks to a convenience store he had seen earlier. Outside the door of a beauty supply store, he dropped the empty pack he was playing with. When he bent down to pick it up, he was assaulted by someone rushing out of the store. They were both knocked to the ground. John's face landed next to a packet of bleach that had fallen out of the girl's bag.

"What the bloody hell?" he exclaimed. He turned over so he was sitting and to get a good look who knocked him down. The color left his face when he realized who she was. His eyes locked with her sapphire blues. He could tell she was surprised, and he could have sworn he saw a glimmer of the old, vehement Wanda when her eyes sparked, and her mouth opened to shout back. But she held her tongue and the spark left, if it was ever there.John felt an increasing tumble of emotions. Seeing her made his heart ache. He was hurt and angry that she didn't remember him. We were a couple! We spent practically every minute together. We laughed, we ran, we fought, we saw each other when we were vulnerable. And she can't remember one thing! Not one bloody thing!

Although he knew she was a victim in this just as he was, he was still mad, and he took it out on her. "Oh, it's you," he spat. "Picking up some hair product for your weaselly brother? I knew his hair wasn't natural. He wants to be just like Daddy-dearest, doesn't he?"

Wanda's eyes narrowed. When he had first knocked her over, Wanda wanted to shout at him for being in her way and for his rudeness, but her father taught her better than to disrespect other mutants. Apparently he didn't teach his minions to show the same respect. "It's for me. I'm not Pietro's errand girl."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realize you wanted to look more like Maggie-pie. My mistake. I thought you liked looking original." He knew that would get to her. At least, it would bother the old Wanda. John tossed the beach packet at her for effect. He got up and continued his journey to the convenience store.

Wanda remained on the ground as she absorbed the insult. It was strange. Lately, she would have just turned the other cheek and ignored the imbecile. But when she saw him and heard the words come from his mouth, she felt something stir inside her. She felt natural, like her true self. Like, for the first time in a long while, she wasn't just floating through life, but actually participating in it.

That feeling faded as she watched St. John walk away from her. She wanted that feeling back. So she followed the pyromaniac with a new purpose. The Scarlet Witch was not going to let him off that easy. He was going to regret insulting her and her family. She scooped up the items that had fallen out of her bag and started to follow him down the street.

Wanda shouted down the street. "I'm not the one who works for him! If anyone is acting like my father right now, it's you!" It wasn't true, but she could tell Magneto was a sore spot with John and exploited it. He just ignored her and entered the store.

Wanda stomped up the to the door, but she noticed something on the electrical pole just outside. It was a half-covered flyer advertising the Rocky Horror Picture Show. She stared at the picture of the big red lips and Tim Curry in lingerie. She knew something was familiar about it. At first, she thought she must have seen the flyer somewhere else, but the sense of deja vu was too strong. She wracked her brain trying to figure things out, totally forgetting about her altercation with the firebug inside the store. Her head throbbed as a few chaotic images flew into it: Red lipstick, the letter v, a broken pump, flying toast, electric-blue eye shadow . . . She was confused - what did all of these strange images mean? She ripped the flyer off the pole and squinted at the paper. Why can't I remember?

She grew frustrated, and the pain in her temples wasn't waning. Her free hand tried to massage the pain away, but it only grew worse. She groaned and bent over, crumbling the flyer in her hand as she brought it to her head as well. Traffic lights started flashing randomly, horns honked, a car alarm went off, and then she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Are you all right, sweetie?" asked an older woman.

Wanda stood upright and got her bearings. The pain in her head dissipated. "Uh, yeah. I'm all right now. Just . . ." she trailed off, trying to remember what she was doing. She looked down at the crumpled poster and tossed it in a garbage can. "I'm fine."

"Okay," said the motherly woman, unconvinced but not nosy enough to press the matter further. The woman continued on her way, leaving Wanda in front of the store. She glanced through the glass door to see John at the head of the line, buying his cigarettes. Now Wanda remembered what she was doing. Wrath filled her.

With a menacing look, she hexed open the double doors. "What makes you think you can just ignore me when I'm yelling at you!" she shouted.

John looked up, shocked she had followed him. It was an unusual turn of events. He figured she and her lifeless eyes would just go on home. But he couldn't show her his surprise. "Oh, you again." He turned back to the cashier and grinned. He knew Wanda didn't remember him, but he wanted to make her hurt like he was hurting. So he decided to try and make her jealous by flirting with this random girl. "I like your flare." He pointed to the buttons on the cashier's vest (6). He leaned forward and squinted to read one conveniently near her chest. "'A cubicle is just a padded cell without a door,'" he read and laughed.

Wanda gritted her teeth. It wasn't all wrath that filled her now. Was that little bit that perked up jealousy? No, couldn't be. I don't know him, why would I be jealous that he was flirting with some retail girl? I'm just upset that he isn't paying attention to me. I'm the one that has the power to make him miserable.

The cashier smiled back. "You're cute. I swear I've seen you before. . .Do you take classes as Bayville Community College?"

John shook his head. He tried a move he had seen Remy use a couple times. He put his elbows on the counter and rested his head in his hands. "Do you . . ." he started. Then a tray full of discarded pennies, encased in a sparkling blue glow, flew up into his face and mouth.

"What is your problem?" he yelled at the smirking Wanda. Although he had forced anger in his voice, he was secretly jumping with excitement that his plan had worked. It didn't matter that he didn't have a clue as too how.

"My problem!" she said in disbelief. She took a few steps closer to him, getting in his face. "You insult me and my family, then ignore me. I will NOT be ignored! You picked the wrong girl to mess with today, Pyro!" Her hands glowed.

"You want to go at it!" he shouted back. John embraced his anger. He whipped a cheap Bic lighter off the counter, and a curtain of fire swirled about him, then behind him. The customers in the store screamed, and the cashier backed up against the wall. "I kicked two X-Geek's asses today. I might as well add a Brotherhood girl to the list."

Wanda leaned forward and said, "You better check your list twice, because I won't be on it." Her words dripped venom. She was bathing in this passion she had rediscovered in his pesky presence. She looked him straight in the eye and wondered a little at the pain she saw behind them. Despite that, she continued to glare at him in silence.

He met and matched her stare, still in the anger stage. "Don't think a lowly pyromaniac can hurt the daughter of Magneto?"

"No, I don't think one can hurt an angry witch!" She was sick of him bringing up her father. She could take care of herself. She'd never hidden behind his cape before. Wanda didn't understand why John kept mentioned him. Like she wasn't her own person, but an extension of her father.

"According to those folks in Salem, burning at the stake is the best way to kill a witch." The real Wanda would have thrown me into a wall by now. He leaned forward a little more; their noses were almost touching now. "Would you like to be done original or extra crispy?" After those words fell from his mouth, he realized what he was doing and who he was egging on: A mutant who could probably pull his brains out through his nose. Not to mention a girl he would much rather be snogging. I may have taken this a wee bit too far. Regret, hesitance, and sadness passed over his face.

But the girl didn't notice. She was too involved in her own emotions.

Wanda wanted to shut him up with every bone in her body. But there was a conflict as to how. Part of her wanted to punch him in the mouth and knock out all of his teeth, then hex him into the beer cooler. The other part of her wanted to close in on the two inches between his lips and hers and shove her tongue down his throat. That part of her frightened her, mostly because she couldn't think of one good reason to be attracted to her father's henchmen, aside from his accent. Her breath quickened as her mind and body argued over what course of action to take.

Just before her mind relented and she gave into temptation, Wanda found herself in a cold shower. The smoke form John's fire had set off the sprinklers in the store.

The pyromaniac took a step back and looked up at the ceiling. "Why do you spite me? 'The Lord knows I'm not a cruel man.'" (7) He secretly thanked the sprinklers for their out. He didn't think he would really go through with fighting her. He didn't want to harm her; he wanted to be with her.

Perplexed at his Lord remark, Wanda commented, "I never pegged you for a religious guy."

"I call the cat Lord." (7) John looked around the wet store. "You know, I'm just going to leave now and save any dignity I may still have." He walked quickly past the witch and left the store. John jogged down the street, back to where he left Piotr. That was rough. I really need a durry now. John felt his empty pocket. Bloody hell!

Wanda stood there, not knowing how to react. A minute ago she was full of rage, passion, and frustration, not to mention unexplainable lust. Now she was wet and empty. Numb as she had been since that strange trip to Mount Ararose.

Then John came back into the store. When she saw him, her emotions hit her like a mac truck. She was stunned and couldn't react.

"I decided to sacrifice my dignity for my smokes," he announced and snatched his pack from the counter.

All Wanda could do was follow his actions with her eyes. On the way out, he brushed up against her arm. She felt tingles again, but they quickly disappeared. She almost reached out to grab John's arm but was interrupted by the cashier screaming.

"I remember now!" the working girl exclaimed. John stopped with one hand on the door to hear what mystery she had solved. "You were on the news last week. You're the drunk guy who burnt down Starbucks!"

St. John did not have to look at the coffee addicts in the store. He could feel their angry eyes burning him. One grabbed a handful of individually wrapped cookies and began pelting John with them.

"GET 'IM!" the collective coffee customer base screamed. John gulped and took off down the street, followed by the coffee mob.

When St. John was out of sight, Wanda felt her passion fading. The loss of emotions upset her. She didn't want to go back to her blasé existence. She took it out on the following mob. Some of their shoes became untied and they fell on their faces. Others were attacked by their own clothes.

"Why are you helping him? I didn't think you liked him," asked one of the fallen.

Wanda released her fury. "I don't know." She was numb again. She didn't care the place was wet; she didn't care that she was soaked; she didn't care that the cashier was brandishing a cross at her, trying to exercise her from the store; she became neutral once again. Spinning on her heal, she left the store.

Halfway through their meal, a disturbance near the entrance of the diner caught Rogue's attention. She looked its way and frowned. Remy knew who had walked in the door just from reading the expression on her face.

Jean Grey's hair was full of dirt and snarls. The tips of her red locks were singed, and ash was smeared on her face. Scott Summers tried his best to hide the pain of his bruised ribs as he hobbled down the aisle to Rogue's table.

Rogue gave them a look, then picked up her half-eaten fry and continued her meal. Remy followed suit. "Dis sure is a hot spot. We should pick somewhere more secluded next time." Jean and Scott had finally reached their table and stood at the end of the booth, towering over the couple.

Rogue ignored her teammates' presence. "Ah hear there's a good Mexican place that just opened down on Chicago Drive." Jean cleared her throat, but Rogue still didn't look up. "Golden Cactus, Ah think."

Scott finally opened his mouth. "What are you doing here with him?"

Rogue finally looked up. She feigned surprise. "Oh, hi Scott, Jean. How are ya? We're just here eattin'. Wanna join us?" The skunk-haired goth slid a foot toward the window.

Jean rolled her eyes. "I don't believe this."

"Ya told meh ta take him outta the fight," Rogue pointed out.

"I didn't mean to dinner!" Jean exclaimed.

"Actually I'm payin'," Remy interjected. Jean and Scott turned to stare at him as if they finally noticed he was involved.

"Had too." Rogue shrugged. "These damn battle suits don' have any pockets. Design flaw."

"Nothin's flawed from where I'm sittin', chere." The Cajun winked at the girl across the table.

Rogue tilted her head and smiled at him. "Too bad ah can' say the same."

"I'm beautiful and you know it."

"How do you go on like this?" Jean asked Rogue.

Rogue was getting irritated with Jean's vagueness. "Go on like what?"

"Like what goes on between the X-Men and Magneto's lackeys doesn't matter. Like it never happened," Jean explained.

Rogue put down her fry and looked the redhead in the eye. "An' what did happen today, Jean? Cause Ah sat there with Remy pinned underneath meh.. . ."

"D'ose were de days." Remy smiled and relived the memories in his head.

"An' no one else was around. Not ya, not Scott, not Kurt, not Kitty, no cops, no sirens, nothin'." Rogue continued to try and justify her actions, "No one cared dat Pyro was torchin' cars in an old junk yard. No one but us."

"The police were just too scared to come, because they can't handle mutants on their own," declared Scott.

"Smart cops," Remy remarked.

"They were breaking the law. Once we apprehended them, the police would have come to arrest them." Scott honestly believed.

"An' how long did ya want meh ta sit on top of Gambit? 'Til hell froze over an' the cops actually showed up?"

"I wouldn't have minded." Remy grinned at Rogue.

"And how do you stand his incessant flirting?" Jean asked, out of curiosity.

"Ya're right, Jean," Rogue said. "Ah would have gone insane before hell froze over. Maybe homicidal."

"Then why do you constantly chose him over us?" Scott asked.

"Ah don't chose him over anybody. We're just friends, that's all," replied Rogue.

"And what was leaving the battle to go on a date?"

"One, this is not a date. . ."

"Cough-denial-cough," Remy commented. A swift kick to the shins underneath the table was Rogue's response.

"Two, ya told meh Gambit was mah responsibility ta take out o' the fight, an' Ah did. Ah had already taken care of Colossus with Kitty . . ." Remy coughed again. ". . . an' ya only had Pyro ta deal with when Ah left. Ya mean two o' ya couldn' handle one insane pyromaniac?"

Scott gave her the information he got from the fuzzy elf after he regained consciousness. "He lit Kurt's tail on fire, then knocked him out with a lawn ornament."

Rogue showed her first sign of concern in the entire conversation. "Is he okay?" Kurt's not here, did he have ta go ta the hospital?

"Yes, he has a nasty bumb on his head, and he smells worse than Jean's burnt hair, but he's okay. He's waiting out in the car."

She breathed a sigh of relief. "Good."

"So you're concerned about Kurt but not about us?" Jean asked. "Or Kitty?" she added.

"Kitty's fine," Rogue reassured them if they didn't already know . The goth looked them up and down. "An' ya two look fine ta meh."

Jean interrogated her some more. "And how did you know that Kitty was fine? Colossus could have beaten her to a pulp after he broke himself out of whatever she stuck him in, instead of running away. You left her alone!"

"So Ah could come an' help your sorry ass!" Rogue stood up. She was fuming at the accusation that she would leave Kitty in danger. "Colossus was taken care of, an' Ah trusted Kitty ta be able ta handle it. If she had any trouble, she coulda called anyone o' us on the communicator ta come help."

"It is hard to call for help when you're knocked unconscious," Scott shot back.

"Or shut it off to go on a date," Jean added.

Rogue had had enough. "Sorry, Remy, but ah've lost mah appetite." She got up and pushed her way past Jean and Scott. "Ah'll see ya later."

She jogged over to the X-Jeep and knocked on the back window. Slowly, the tinted window rolled down to reveal Kurt holding a bag of frozen peas to his head, and Kitty with a smile on her face that no cleaning product could remove.

"Hi ya, Rogue!" perky Kitty called across Kurt to the open window.

"Uch, not so loud," Kurt complained.

"Ya okay Kurt?"

"I'll live. I'll shave every orange hair off that firebug's head for frying my tail, though." Kurt reached down and showed Rogue his blackened appendage. "He does have good taste in movies."

"He loves Douglas Adams too."

"I'll shave Z.B. in his head, then, (8)" Kurt groaned and slouched. Jean and Scott had finally crossed the street to the X-Jeep.

"Kitty," Rogue talked across the elf with the peas. "Was it wrong that Ah left ya there alone with Colossus ta go help Scott? Ah figured ya could handle a semi-conscious Russian half-phased in a. . . ," Rogue didn't want to counter whatever story she told Jean and Scott earlier.

"A steel barrel," Kitty winked and finished. "Yeah, I totally should have been able to handle it. I was far enough away that I could see him coming if he woke up and broke out. But I saw another rat at exactly the wrong time. You know how I, like, freak out when I see those . . ." Kitty shuddered. ". . . things. By the time I calmed down, he had broken out and ran away. I didn't even see where he went." The smile reappeared on Kitty's face.

"Ah just wanted ta make sure Ah didn' leave ya hangin' o' in danger o' anythin'," Rogue said to Kitty, but her face was turned toward the two who had just jumped into the front seat. Neither of them responded.

Scott started up the car. Rogue took a step back from the vehicle. Scott leaned back in his seat and called out the open window to Rogue, "Aren't you going to get in?"

"No, Ah don' think Ah will. Ah'm helpin' a friend in town dye her hair later, so Ah'll just stick 'round here 'til then." Rogue smiled and turned away. She crossed the street again and met up with Remy, who was just exiting the diner with two to-go containers in his hands.

Rogue took the top box from his hands. "Good, ya saved them fo' meh."

Scott stopped watching in his rearview mirror. He revved the engine and burned rubber as he headed back to the mansion.

"You're not goin' back wit' your friends?" the Cajun asked.

"Nope, too nice a day ta spend it arguin' with them." She opened up the box of food and took out a fry. "What are your plans fo' the rest o' the day?"

Remy smiled down at her. "You want to spend the day wit' moi."

"Not necessarily." Rogue took another bite of her boxed meal. "Ah have some time ta waste 'fore Ah go over ta Wanda's, so Ah just thought Ah'd see if ya were doin' anythin' interestin'. But if ya're not, Ah'll find something better ta do."

"Didn' have much planned. Me and the boys were goin' to see a movie, but John got us kicked outta de d'eater. D'en we went to the junkyard to blow off some steam." Remy paused as he organized his thoughts. "Should probably find 'em. Wanna come?"

"Ya know where ya're goin'?"

"I figure it won't take long for John to burn something. D'en I'll just follow de smoke." Remy forgot about his new cell phone in one of his many pockets.

They walked in silence for a bit.

"Any of de X's suspect anythin' 'bout Petey and the kitty cat?"

Rogue shook her head. "Jean might suspect something now. Can' hide too long under the nose o' a telepath. Amara knows, only 'cause Kitty took her with her and Peter when the went to the movies. But ah think the rest of the mansion is clueless. If Logan o' the Professor know, they ain't tellin'."

"It's gonna come out soon."

"I know." She paused. "He seems like a really sweet guy."

"He's de best. Cares a lot 'bout his friends and family. Do anythin' for 'em."

"Is that why he's with Magneto? To protect his family from him?"

"No, not from Magneto."

"Ah don't understand."

Remy sighed. He knew where this would lead, and he didn't want the subject of the conversation to come back to him. But he couldn't lie to the girl again. She deserved more that that. More d'an me. "D'ere are certain benefits, you might call d'em, for workin' for Magneto. He knows dis is a dangerous line of work, and he cares a lot 'bout family. . ."

"As evident by his brainwashing o' his daughter an' the neglect of his son," Rogue interrupted.

"I didn't say he was good at it. Just dat he cares, and he wants to make sure dat his employee's family don' get hurt or threatened or killed 'cause d'ey are workin' for him."

"So what does he do?"

"He has a couple of free agents watch d'eir families. Sometimes live wit' 'em. Protect 'em. Make 'em safe. The report back weekly and get updates on anyone to watch out for. Dat might be pissed at us."

"Nice benefits."

"Dental sucks."

"Ah still don' get why Peter would work for Magneto in the first place. His family wasn't in danger before he started workin' fo' him."

Remy rubbed his chin, wondering how much he should say on the subject. He decided to keep it focused on the Rasputins. "Petey thinks so. See, Petey's older brother was a mutant, too. One day, Petey came home late from school to find his house was on fire. Petey's powers came out, and he stormed inside. His parents and his grandfather were already dead. He found his little sister under a bed and his grandmother unconscious on the floor. He busted through a wall and hauled d'em out."

"Ah'm surprised Kitty didn' tell meh 'bout this."

"I don' d'ink she knows. Petey doesn't like to talk 'bout it. It took three shots of tequila and a pitcher o' beer to loosen his lips enough to give us dat."

"Who would do somethin' like that?"

"De government. Dey wanted to use his older brother for a weapon."

"But wasn't Russia a democracy by then?"

"Dey still had at least one of d'eir secret divisions left and crazies running it."

"Ah'm still confused. Why doesn' Magneto just keep the people watching his family on his team instead of taking Peter?"

"Sometimes he does pull them out for a mission here and dere, but usually not. D'ese people are more mercenaries d'an anythin' else. Magneto knows dey don' care 'bout his vision and would turn against him for a higher price. Sell info. Basically he doesn't d'ink he can control d'em or trust d'em."

"But what about John? He can't really trust him anymore."

"Mags keeps John around 'cause I convinced him it was best to keep his eye on him. Cut him loose and risk being exposed. Kill him and lose a valuable asset and the loyalty of me and Petey. He knows John won't ever raise a had to him. He's too scared and doesn't have enough vision to plan an effective attack."

"Oh," Rogue grew silent again, taking in all Remy was telling her. Then she asked the question he had been dreading. "Remy, is that why you are working - "

"Oh look." Remy pointed down the street. "D'ere's some smoke over d'ere. Found John-boy."

Remy started to jog down to the random place he pointed, but Rogue grabbed his arm and pulled him back. "Why are you always avoidin' that question?"

"What question?"

"Jerk."

"D'at's a question?"

"No, that's a fact."

The Cajun sighed. "See, Remy's past is not a very happy, shinny subject. You just got to talkin' to me again, and I don' want to tell you anythin' dat might make you stop."

"Why would ah stop, Remy? What happened that scares ya so much?" There was a genuine concern and sympathy in her jade eyes.

"I'm not scared. I'm just . . . not ready to say anythin' yet. I could barely tell John. He still doesn't know everythin', but he knows more than anyone else."

Rogue tried to follow where Remy was going with this. "So Ah should ask John 'bout it?"

"NO!" he exclaimed. "I'll tell you. Just not today, okay?" He brushed a stray white hair from the middle of her face and looked her in the eye.

"All right. But it better not be years from now 'cause Ah might stop talkin' to ya again."

He nodded in agreement. "D'at's fair."

Remy turned to head to where he really saw smoke now. "His infamous signature. You comin'?" he asked when he realized Rogue hadn't begun to follow him.

She shook her head. "Naw. Ah think Ah'll just head over ta the Brotherhood early."

"I could give you a ride," he suggested. "Den you won' have to walk."

"Ah want ta walk. Gotta lot ta think about." Rogue turned to leave. "See ya later, swamp rat! Ah'll call ya.".

Remy smiled. He felt good. He felt fabulous. He felt he could walk on water. He looked both ways and jogged crossed the street. He turned down a cobblestone ally and saw someone that wiped all his good feelings away.

The blonde hopped down off the back of a parked car and smiled her signature sinister smile. "Long time, no see, LeBeau."

(1) In reference to the three lifelines you get on the game show, Who wants to be a Millionaire?
(2) See Nine to Five: Chapter 18 - "I'm a Dead Cat Too"
(3) See Nine to Five: Chapter 13 - "Something Like Rex Manning Day"
(4) See Nine to Five: Chapter 11 - "Love is in the Air"
(5) Chunder Vomit.
(6) Nod to Office Space.
(7) Quotes from the Ruler of the Universe in Douglas Adams Restaurant at the End of the Universe.
(8) Zaphod Beeblebrox from Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams had his brain messed with and signed his initials to it.