A/N: Do not own X-Men Evolution. All that good stuff.
Kitty's heart sighed as she contemplated what she was about to do. It was a small sacrifice, really, seeing as she already broke Remy's "one item only" rule (but we'll touch on that later). She clutched the brand new Bobbi Brown make up kit (complete with adorable bronze carrying case) in her palms- proud that she only swiped one brown mini eye pencil for herself: like she would really go completely without makeup. Puh-lease.
"For you," Kitty pushed the metallic bag in Rogue's stunned face. "It's not as dark as your usual stuff; I was going for like, sparkly granola, because, y'know, it's camping. Don't want to be to glitzy."
A soft smile flowed to Rogue's face. She half hugged her odd choice of companion. "Thanks Kit," she pulled the zipper across the brick sized bag to pull out: A soft, shimmery peach and bronze dual eye shadow, bright pink blush, light pink shimmer lip gloss, brushes and a coco brown mini eye pencil. Not her usual child of the dark set up, but it was better than nothing- and light and natural was probably better to keep Logan's "all seeing eyes" (sarcasm) off their prohibited goodies.
"What did you keep?" Rogue cocked a brow at Kitty, who shyly lifted brown eyeliner. Rogue rolled her green eyes and laughed. "It's a little light," Rogue puckered, and Kitty made her offended face. "But it'll do," she said. She leaned down and began to unzip the tent door.
"Better than all that black crap you smear all over your visage," Kitty murmured with a pout.
"What?" Rogue turned around. Kitty shook her head innocently. "Stop using big words when you're angry." She turned back to the door to see-
"Ah!" she screamed. Without thinking, to distract him from her lack of makeup, she grabbed the nearest object, Kitty's pillow, and threw it in his face.
"Whoa chere!" He grabbed it. It instantly burned fuchsia and burst into a flurry of scorched white fluff. "No need to get violent." Stunned, she blinked. He analyzed her face: untouched, softer, lighter than usual- refreshing. It seemed cliché to him, but, though she was always pretty, her natural features could out rank an angels. He smiled; she soured.
"What are you doin' here?" She snapped, cutting him off before he could respond. "You shouldn't sit outside people's rooms like that. It's creepy- and stalkerish." She shoved past him like she didn't care that he had seen her unpainted face. He stood awkwardly with a stunned, gaping Kitty.
A moment too late, Kitty finally snapped "Heck no! I know you did not just blow up my pillow! This is like, total debauchery!"
"Gotta go petite!" He said, chasing Rogue "Excusez-moi!" he said over his shoulder.
"Wait up chere," he called. His black boots stepped with hers: moving when she moved, stepping as she stepped. Her green eyes, worth more than any jewels; her face couldn't be more perfect if it was painted by Da Vinci; being next to her was worth more than Solomon's temple. He'd stolen priceless gems before, but this was different: he wanted this differently; this was a challenge, was worth more in a way he could neither admit, nor understand.
He liked her. Sincerely- not just in the trivial way he chased after girls before. She was different-
She couldn't stand him.
And we always want what if we can't have- especially when we happen to be master thieves that have a knack for finding ways to obtain the unobtainable, non?
"You got something to say Cajun?" She said, coming to a stop. She looked him up and down defiantly. Soft, shoulder length auburn hair, ocean eyes, and ivory skin that could kill him if he got too close- no wonder she was the one the past scoundrel locked his sights on. "It's not polite to ogle." She tilted her head to the side with a cocky grin.
As he smirked back he said "Yo' da one dat said 'ogle'".
Her face toppled flat. In a secluded, not yet sun scorched patch of grass, she flopped down. He- with his messy hair, and his ebony and ruby eyes, and his stupid charming smile- gently and hesitantly loomed over her.
"You got anything to say Gambit or did you to you just come to make me feel awkward."
He looked to the clusters of grey vinyl tents. He pointed to the one he shared with Pete, then to Rogue and Kitty's. "Petite and Petie. Sounds like a good combination. Just flows- non?"
Rogue squinted at him for a moment. "No. Oh no LeBeau." She shook her head so her hair flung against her face. "You can play matchmaker. Not me- Ah'm not a meddler."
"It's not meddling," he said (but yes my pretties- our dear Gambit was totally meddling). "Remy's just observing. Petie's shy chere." He shrugged "I just taught it would be my duty as a good friend to get some information." His smirk flattened. "I don't want him to get hurt or anything like dat. You feel like dat about da chaton no?"
He looked sincere enough- and, oddly enough, knew what he meant about worrying over friend's love interest.
"What information?" she tilted her head and tucked her hair behind her ear.
"Like is she still wit da fearless leader of da masked morons?"
"They don't wear masks." She chuckled "And not right now, but it changes- so if he wants to do something, tell him to do it quick." She bit her lip "Like now, while she can't see captain fruit-bowl and he can't woo her back into his grungy arms." She faked a swoon. He chuckled.
Okay, so she didn't know if this counted as meddling- but come on: it was Pete vs. Lance. She would way rather meddle her towards Pete than leave her susceptible to more Lance.
"Thanks cherie." He half smiled.
Meanwhile
Distraught, with the fluffy remains of her pillow surrounding her and thoughts of the torture Wolverine intended to inflict on them Monday, (oh crap, that's tomorrow) diving her mood into the dirt- and furthermore, her best friend abandoning her in this lonely tent- Kitty wandered to the dusty wooden picnic bench by the bathrooms (btw- ew. Whose idea was that?) To absorb some sunshine.
In the warmth of the light she laid on the bench, eyes closed, arms overhead. She rolled up the sleeves of her ill fitted t-shirt and pulled it up to bring the gift of color to bleached white midriff. It was totally criminal the meager clothing rations Logan let them keep.
As she was about to roll over to keep herself even, the heat of the sun vanished into shadow. She squeezed her eyes shut tighter.
"Come on Logan! I'm not even doing anything stupid! I just don't want to be the victim of Bobby's white jokes when we go swimmingggg."
"You have a lovely skin tone Katya," A sweet Russian voice twirled in her ears. "It suits you." He said softly, totally ignoring her embarrassment at calling him Logan like the imbecile she was.
"Pete!" she sat up straight as a level, stunned. "I had no idea it was you!" Her cheeks turned the color of a fresh red Crayola crayon. She blinked her wide blue eyes. After a moment of embarrassing silent idiocy, she threw her bare legs off the side of the bench and patted the seat next to her. She stared at her French manicured toes, with their little aqua Hawaiian flowers on the inner corners of her big toes, in hopes that she'd be inspired with an incredibly witty comment to recover from this stupidity.
Nothing.
So he recovered for her. "You look very nice Katya," he smiled and she sat there like a dope. "I wanted to say thank you, for last night," he scanned the open, green scenery, breathing in the golden green scent of pine and dust, then her face- creamy skin, strawberry-frosting pink cheeks, sapphire eyes, all framed by milk chocolate satin locks. "The notebook," he focused in the exact center of her pupil. Her heart rattled. "It meant a lot to me."
"No problem," she replied to the soft Russian accent that set off tiny sparks on her insides "If you didn't like, keep Logan from snooping I would have been like, totally dead anyway, so like, yeah." Way to babble like a moron Kitty.
"Nonetheless," he half smiled through closed lips, "I'm grateful, Katya"
As he stood to leave she frowned. She felt the tips of hair and smoothed the unflattering top.
"Thank you, again."
"Yeah, totally. We should like totally do it again," she blabbered as her head bobbled and he nodded. Shut up Kitty! Just shut up! When he was a safe distance away, she hit her head on the ancient wood table top.
Nice. We'll he's going to think I'm a genius. She sighed. But how could she have helped it? It was like her brain function dissolved when he came around.
Thump, thump, thump went her forehead.