Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, blabbity-blah, the usual…

A/N: It's been a while. I went off on a little detour and started a very OOC JP/Bobby songfic series. Smiley faces. Anyway, I still have a different story-voice going, so I'm sorry if this chapter has a different feel than the others… Please review!

A/N # 2: It's very strange… I just read a 25-Chapter ROMY fic… and I actually LIKED it. Then again, it did have the cutest JP in it, so… I managed to pull through without losing interest…

"Ya know when Johnny and Jono suddenly became best friends?" Logan wondered as he chewed on a cigar.

Kurt peered over Logan's head to get a clearer view of Jono and Jean Paul walking down the hall together, exchanging playful banter.

"This does seem to be new," He noted.

"Hmph," Logan grunted in amusement and disposed of the cigar stub.

XXXXXX

/I have a question,/ Jono said suddenly as he watched Jean Paul slowly lick a red popsicle.

He raised an eyebrow, "I have a feeling it's an important one,"

/I might be wrong,/ Jono said carefully,

"Oui?"

/Yer like Iceman,/

"That's not a question," Jean Paul said in amusement, biting the top of his popsicle to reveal an ice-cream filling.

/Well do yer?/

"I had no idea you were the type for gossip," Jean Paul said.

/I'm jus' saying… Yer get … different around 'im,/

"Different, hm? How so?"

/Yer haven't answered the bloody question!/ Jono said instead.

"Let's make a deal, belle," Jean Paul smirked, prying off a piece of frozen red juice and licking the ice cream below smooth, "I'm good at making deals."

Jono squinted at him, /Alright,/ he said finally, /Wait, wot does belle mean?/

Jean Paul laughed, "beauty and beautiful, among other things, but I meant 'lovely'." He said.

Jono's eyes widened, /Wot-?/

"Don't look so surprised, you have gorgeous eyes," Jean Paul said matter-of-factly, "Anyway, to answer your question, yes, I did have a 'crush' on Robert –as childish as that sounds,"

/Yer did have?/

Jean Paul shrugged and looked thoughtfully out into space, "Well, he's not the same person anymore… He can't remember anything and…" He shrugged again, rolling his eyes as he waved the remnants of his popsicle around in the air.

Jono stared at him for a moment, /I don't believe yer./

"Qu'est-ce?" Jean Paul raised an eyebrow.

/Yer haven't even talked ter him –yer haven't even seen him. How do yer know what a little amnesia's done ter 'im?/ Jono clarified.

Jean Paul scoffed, "Your turn for questioning is over. It's my turn."

Jono groaned, /Wot could yer possibly want ter know about me?/

"What is going on between you and Remy LeBeau?"

Jono's eyes widened considerably, /Quite straightforward, aren't yer?/

"Answer it," Jean Paul ordered, finishing his popsicle and dropping the stick into the trashcan beside the kitchen counter.

/Nothing./

Jean Paul snorted, "Nothing, or just, nothing, where there should be something? You wish there was something?"

Jono blinked, /I do not!/ he said.

"You hesitated," Jean Paul accused, smirking.

/No, yer 'ead's too thick so the message didn't register at the exact moment I said it,/

Jean Paul burst into laughter, "You wish there was something, mon ami!" He snickered.

Jono made a swipe at him, but of course, Jean Paul was too fast and dodged his hand.

/bollocks!/ Jono declared,

"Oh really? Please clarify your meaning, then," Jean Paul said, leaning over the counter.

Jono back at Jean Paul who was blinking innocently at him, /Yer know, yer aren't nearly as uptight as everyone says,/ he said.

"Uptight? Non, I just have extremely good posture." Jean Paul said, "Besides, everyone says you wallow in self-pity and never give more than three-syllable answers."

/Yeah? They say that?/

"Jubilee, anyhow," Jean Paul smirked.

/Don't listen ter anything she tells yer,/ Jono said, eyes going wide, /'Cos she's lying./

"Of course," Jean Paul agreed, "How would she know for certain where you have a tattoo?"

Jono's eyes narrowed, /She didn't,/

"Mm, but she did," Jean Paul grinned evilly.

They stared each other down until a sudden noise off to the side forced them to look away.

The student known as Elixir stood in the door way, staring at them.

Jean Paul leaned back as he realized Josh was zeroing in on the three inches in between Jean Paul's face and Jono's, "Good afternoon, Joshua," Jean Paul said.

"Uh huh," the golden-skinned boy said quickly, "Of course, yeah, sure, mm-hm," He nodded fiercely, his cheeks glowing. He opened the refrigerator and grabbed a soda and then practically raced out of the room.

/Yer know, I think there might be something wrong with that boy./ Jono said, stating the obvious, as they stared at the doorway.

"Well he recently discovered that he cannot only heal, but kill as well," Jean Paul answered.

/That's scary./

"Oui."

XXXXX

"So I'm an accountant?" Bobby said with amusement as he stared at a plaque next to a classroom. 'Accountancy' it said, with the name 'Bobby Drake' underneath it.

"Dis is y'r classroom," Remy nodded.

Bobby opened the door and looked in, "It's huge,"

"y' have a lot o' kids takin' de class."

"People seriously like it?"

"Well," Remy smiled faintly, "Y' do give dem ice-cream a lot, an' Rem –I heard dat dere ain' a lot o' homework."

"Hm, ice cream sounds nice," Bobby said thoughtfully, grinning, "Hey, why's the desk scorched?" he asked suddenly.

"Eh? Don' know," Remy shrugged nonchalantly.

Bobby closed the door of the class room, "So whose teaching the class right now?"

"Chamber," Remy said as he started walking back down the hall.

Bobby raced after him, "You mean that guy from last night? He didn't really seem to like you, but I thought you were friends."

"What gave y' dat idea?" Remy said darkly.

Bobby frowned, his brow furrowing, "I'm not sure, actually; maybe you mentioned it?"

"Don' recall ever doin' so, mon ami," Remy replied moodily.

"Oh c'mon, what's the big deal? What happened? You hafta hate him for a reason!"

"Remy never said dat he hate Chamber," was the snappy response.

Bobby sighed and then hurried to catch up to the Cajun, "Okay, first, what did I say about the third-person point of view? Second, if you don't hate him, why the hell are you acting like you do?"

"I don' –I ain't,"

"Uh-huh," Bobby said, grinning slowly, "So you want to be his friend!"

"Never said dat," Remy replied.

"You wanna be friends! You told me so! I know you did!" Bobby cried triumphanty.

Remy eyed him wearily, "Y' were in a coma. T'ings have changed!"

"Yeah, you messed it up." Bobby said, stopping Remy in the hall and poking him in the chest.

"Dere was not'in t' mess up!" Remy responded,

"You wish there was something," Bobby said smugly.

"Vous êtes impossible! Je ne l'aime pas!" Remy said through his teeth, throwing his hands in the air.

Bobby stared at him and furrowed his brow, "Okay, I have no idea what you just said… um, something about 'impossible', I think?"

"He said that you are impossible," A voice nearby supplied.

Bobby and Remy turned to find that they were standing a few feet away from the kitchen doorway.

Two men stood at a counter inside.

One of them was Chamber, whom Bobby recognized from the night before, and the other was a black-and-silver-haired man that Bobby probably knew, but couldn't ever recall seeing before.

Bobby smiled uncertainly, "Oh, hi," he waved, "Didn't notice you; sorry,"

He walked into the kitchen, reaching out and snagging Remy's trench coat just as the Cajun made for an exit.

"I didn't meet you guys yesterday. Officially, I mean. You're Chamber?" Bobby smiled and extended his hand to the bandaged young man.

/Call me Jono,/ he nodded, taking Bobby's hand politely, /And yer won't have ter worry about rememberin' me; we never officially met, anyway,"

"That's one person," Bobby responded good-naturedly.

He looked at the silver-haired man next to him.

"Jean-Paul Beaubier," the man smiled tightly, shaking Bobby's hand quickly,

"Nice to meet you… again?" Bobby raised an eyebrow uncertainly.

"Oui," Jean Paul said.

"Oh, you're French? Awesome, you can translate for me when Remy decides to be a prick." Bobby grinned. He grabbed the Cajun's arm (Remy was standing off to the side, edging toward the exit) and waved to Jean Paul and Jono, "Nice meeting you," he said.

Jono turned to Jean Paul as Bobby and Remy disappeared, /So? Yer think Iceman's still the same bloke?/

Jean Paul blinked and looked at the younger man, "Oui. On a different note, it appears that he seems to believe Gambit vous aime,"

/Come again?/ Jono did an eye-frown, squinting his eyes and staring,

"He believes that Gambit likes you,"

/Sod off!/ Jono retorted immediately.

"Non! He said it in French, so I should know!"

/Yer makin' up; 'e said no such thing!/

"He did, I swear to it,"

/I'm not havin' this conversation anymore,/ Jono declared, looking away.

"Le Cajun vous aime…" Jean Paul sang softly.

/Enough wit' the French!/ Jono snapped.

"Hmph," Jean Paul smirked,

/Look, I don't like Gambit. So end of conversation. Oui? Comprende? Got it?/

"Oui," Jean Paul said, his lips twitching, "Though you should know that I do not speak Spanish, so there is no point in using it."

/Anyway, what're you pestering me for? You're the gay one,/

"Gambit is far too … self-hating… for me. Gorgeous, yes, but a too dark. Not my type." Jean Paul said nonchalantly, waving his hand in dismissal.

/Yeah? An' wot's yer type? Iceman-type?/ Jono said.

"Somehow I knew you were going to say that," Jean Paul sighed.

XXXXX

"Lighten up!" Bobby said, stalking after Remy, "I said I was sorry, but is it really a big deal? Remy!"

"Y' don' know anyt'in'! Don' tell me how it is!"

"I'm amnesiac, not fucking stupid, Rem," Bobby said, "Remy, listen to me!"

"Gambit don' listen t' no one!" Remy shouted over his shoulder and he disappeared around the corner.

Bobby stared at the place the Cajun had disappeared, "Damn it," he muttered.

"Don't worry, he'll just sulk for a few hours," Jubilee said cheerfully, walking up next to him, "What happened, anyway?"

"Nothing," Bobby replied.

"Hm, well, are you going to go after him and try and apologize about nothing again?" Jubilee wondered.

"No," Bobby sighed.

"Great," she clapped her hands together, "Then I need your help! We're putting green dye in Warren's shampoo!"

A/N: Short, short, short, I know. I just wanted to write something light for this chapter…

Review… I need to find a way to begin finishing this so I can start a new fanfic that I have in my head.