A/N: I do not own X-Men Evolution

"This has bad idea written all over it." Rogue sighed as she slicked what Kitty called 'war paint' under her eyes.

"Come on now Chere," Remy cooed with a devious smile. "We gotta go out wit a bang." He chuckled.

Piotr opened his mouth, ready to agree with Rogue, but shut it when he looked at the enthusiastic bounce in Kitty's steps. She just looked so child-like; why crush her?

"Do we even have a plan?" Rogue tilted her head to the side, holding back some sarcastic comment about how their plans didn't really matter, because they always went awry- she was still getting used to them being openly nice to each other.

He held his hand over his heart, wounded. "Of course mon chère! Gambit's always got a plan."

He winked; Rogue rolled her eyes; Kitty giggled.

Later

"Where did you like, find them anyway?" Kitty raised a skeptical eyebrow at Remy.

Piotr held back a snicker, knowing they were not "found" at all- they were made: with love (and Remy's secret affinity for baking). Remy shot him the don't-say-a-word look.

"Not important Chaton." He said. "What's important is dat our lil' fishies take da bate."

"Who wouldn't?" Kitty gushed, her tone wistful "They smelled amazing." She sighed.

"Back to da fishies!" Remy snapped.

Rogue did a mental face palm at the extended analogy- it was hard to picture Logan, the raging Wolverine, as a "lil' fishie."

"Time to split up" Remy said, again, letting Rogue absorb some of his powers.

Remy and Kitty crammed themselves (courtesy of Kitty's phasing powers) under the rickety wooden porch outside Logan's cabin; Piotr and Rogue waited outside of Bobby's tent, creeping outside his door like a bunch of… well… creepers. Rogue almost chuckled- the two with the most enthusiasm would pair themselves together.

But at least she would be the one to ruin Bobby Drakes day.

So things weren't all bad.

Slightly Later than Later

Logan got up at the same time he always did; he marched to the door, pulled on the handle, and was about to step outside when-

He found a pie- banana crème by the smell of it- just sitting on his door step. He had never been one to pass up a good pie (especially not if it was banana crème). Next to it sat a note, a little ivory paper with tidy bold printing that said:

Congratulations on a job well done.

That was odd- but, pie was pie. He shrugged and began to stick his finger in the whipped topping when-

KABLAHM!

The pie burst in his face in an explosion of banana and crème. Unknown to him, a certain raging Cajun had his hand phased through the floor boards, to charge an ace of spades taped to the bottom of the pie tin.

Logan snarled- with all the whipped crème frothing around his face, he looked like a rabid beast.

Remy and Kitty clutched their sides under the floor boards, gushing with silent laughter. Kitty's eye's watered; Remy slapped his hand over his mouth: great success.

Pie to the face, come on- classic.

Now for our dear Bobby

At the sound of a feral mutant storming through the camp, Bobby Drake rubbed his eyes and stretched as he eased through the door of his tent.

But what was this?

A Boston Crème pie, waiting for him just outside his door- a little gift from home.

Piped in whipped crème along the top read "To Bobby, From…"

Weird, but, pie was pie.

He reached in for a bite of the beautiful dessert when-

BAHM!

Boston Crème everywhere.

"Whoa!" He yelled as it burst in his face.

Rogue snickered at the girlish look of shock on his face- she wished she could look back at it in slow motion.

She had to admit, the Cajun was good.

A/N: Pie to the face- cliché, I know. But I couldn't help myself=)

It might come as a bit of a surprise, but no: I do not totally hate Bobby Drake. But he's an easy target in terms of making stupid jokes. Just saying.

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