A/N: Do not own X-Men Evolution
"Nuit d'Ă©toiles," Remy sang, tilting his face back and forth to the rhythm of the song. "Sous tes voiles,sous ta brise et tes parfums," he continued as his fingers wriggled shampoo in Rogue's auburn hair. Was he serenading her? Not exactly, but in an odd way technically.
"What are you singing?" Rogue snapped, though she was surprised that he had a pleasant singing voice. (Sigh; is there anything he can't do?)
"It's French Cherie." He broke from the soothing melody, "Hush up and enjoy." He smirked as he squeezed more golden-clear shampoo in his hands, rubbing his palms together, and sinking his fingers back into her softly tempestuous waves. He enjoyed her presence, even if she did not show that she enjoyed his.
Pete, a bit more reserved in the flirting realm, remained quiet. Kitty blushed, mortified, as he finger combed her now clean chocolate tresses. And worse, the strawberry color in her cheeks deepened to a rich crimson, he's totally guffawing. But we'll see! We'll see who has the last maniacal cackle!
"Katya?" Pete skimmed her temple, pulling her back to the real world.
"What," Kitty said, ramping back to reality.
"You are done," He smiled at her confused face, as she realized the water had stopped and her head was free of soap.
"Oh!" She said, head still in the sink. "Right." With the grace of a wounded seal, she propped herself up- only to slip in an invisible puddle of soapy water. Visions of lost teeth and heavy bruising, she braced for impact on the yucky squares of the bath tile- but she never hit the floor.
Pete's arm was wrapped under her tiny ribcage. "Careful," He said, slowly bringing her upright.
"Yeah. I'm like, such a klutz." She giggled self consciously "Just call me clumsy Kitty. Ha-ha. Total alliteration." Oh my gosh Kitty. Shut up. A soft incarnadine filled her cheeks; his warm stare stirred a subtle, hot nervousness within her.
"Iyeeeee," she stumbled for the words "I have to go- get detangler." Yeah, before I bring anymore shame of embarrassment on myself. She hustled out of the bathroom.
Remy made a-what's going on?-face at Rogue. She replied with an-it's none of your business!- look. He shrugged- he'd always fancied himself quite good at matchmaking.
"Don't. Do. Anything." Rogue hissed through clenched teeth. "You leave them alone."
"What?" He said with a playful wink. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"I mean it Cajun!" Her eyes grew somber. "Last thing she needs is for you to get involved so her heart breaks more and…" she looked at the floor.
"We still talking 'bout da chaton?" He ran his index finger along her jaw, "Or we talking 'bout you chere?"
Their eyes caught; and for a millisecond she allowed the vulnerability.
But that was only a millisecond.
And she intended to make up for it.
"You don't know me Gambit." She shoved his hand away.
"You won't let me."
"Maybe Ah don't want you to."
"And maybe you do-" he said; they'd grown reasonably louder as their conversation progressed. "I think you do- I think you do and that scares you to death."
"What are you my psychiatrist now?" They'd inched closer to each other. "You're so arrogant,"
"Well you're stubborn-"
"Ah'm stubborn? Wow. You're obnoxious-"
"Closed off-"
"Conceited-"
"Hostile-"
"Self-centered player-"
"Fickle, ridiculous-"
"Then what do you want with me?" She yelled; their voices had drawn to a full crescendo. "Huh, Gambit? Isn't this just one of your stupid thieving 'Ah-just-want-what-Ah-can't-have things?" She snapped, inches from his face, "I won't be that girl, so what do you want?"
Without another word, he took her face in his hands and kissed her. She stepped back, dazed, but not altogether unpleasant- until she gathered her thoughts.
"Touch me again without my permission, and Ah'll drop you." She brushed past him.
He did a mental face palm- for once he didn't have all the right moves.
Meanwhile
Kitty hustled outside; chagrin clutched her insides.
"Hey Kitty." His voice jolted her out of her skin: Lance. Oh dear goodness. Piotr slowed just outside the door of the bathroom. He changed his direction, but ambled, still watchful.
Looking back at a now very sullen Pete, she ignored him.
"Kitty," he grabbed her wrist. "Come on, Kit."
She scowled. "Come to laugh in my face over your stupid prank?" She put her hands on her hips.
"Nah Kit," He said, glancing at Pete. Lance flattened his small smirk. "You know I care about you. I wanted to, ya know, check up on you." He touched her face, still looking at Pete.
She swatted his hand away. "If you really cared you wouldn't have traumatized me like that." She pushed past him.
He tugged her wrist. "I'm serious!" He pulled her reluctant form against his chest; still looking at Pete, who had slowed to the speed of a wounded snail. "It was Scott's idea and- well I miss you Kit. I'm sorry. It's just one more chance- come on."
"Oh get off Lan-"
But he pulled her face into a forced lip lock. She shoved away from him.
"Lance!" She cried. She turned to look for Pete, but the damage was done: her sweet Russian Prince Charming had seen what he had seen and walked off.
"What did you do that for?" Kitty considered slapping him across his cocky face.
"You're my girl Kit," He smirked in the direction Piotr had walked off. He squeezed her shoulders.
"No." She shook her head and shrugged away from him. "Just, stop." She hurried after Pete, desperate to fix whatever the heck just happened.
"Come on Kittay!" He yelled at her back. "You know we aren't done! We're never done!"
"Oh yes. We are. I'd say we're pretty done." She didn't turn to face him. She just left him there to look like the idiot he was.