Author's Note: This is possibly one of my more evil chapters. On another note, I can already hear several people asking: Why have anyone say St. John phonetically, when you don't usually bother with it? As a rule I like pointing out that many Americans, and most of those who attend the Institute, would not contract St. John's name properly. Most would just call him Saint John which then gets shortened to John/Johnny/That Weird Orange Freak. However, if St. John is going to introduce himself immediately to someone, they might bother to pronounce his name properly, even over pronounce it, if they were unfamiliar with it. Thus, we actually have a "Sin Jin" right here in this very chapter.


"So, how's being grounded going?" Exie asked Rogue as the two girls lounged under a tree, waiting for the rest of the instructors and participants to stop making name-cards.

Rogue leaned back, her fingers brushing the moss covering a flat stone inscribed by the initials of the dead. "Well, I got to come here, so it's going better than most of my brushes with Irene's anger."

Exie whistled. "I didn't know that Irene got angry."

Rogue smiled tiredly. "She does. But only with good reason. Oh boy."

Exie followed her gaze, a talk brick wall of a boy was getting out of a car, but there was nothing else happening in the parking lot. "What?"

"That guy is from my school," Marie replied.

Exie gave her a strange look. "Well, yeah. This is a teen outreach program. So's Kurt Darkholme, that Kitty girl your friend Betsy was on about, and a bunch of others. Heck, I saw Lance skulking around somewhere."

"Yeah, but with Cody there's a ton of awkward that gets added into the equa--," Rogue was cut off as Cody saw her, and waved tentatively.

She waved back, which the football player seemed to take as an invitation to come over. "Uh, hi? I didn't think, I'd, uh, see you, here."

"Awkward. Right," Exie commented bluntly.

"Well, I've got family working in this event," Rogue told Cody, hoping that he wouldn't directly talk to Exie. Her sister was not tactful at the best of times. "Uh, this is my half-sister. How are you doing?"

"Oh. Uh, pretty good. Principal Darkholme told me to attend this so, well, I don't repeat Thursday's little fiasco," he stood, looking around nervously. "So, uh, you do martial arts, stuff?"

"Yeah," Rogue nodded, getting up, "I did a bit as a kid, and when I moved up here, I discovered my father taught a bunch of martial arts classes. So, well, I enrolled, and it, well, seemed to help us get to know one another better. You know."

"Wow," Cody smiled, before his head turned. "Hey, is that your dad?" he asked, nodding over to the group of four instructors who were grouped around a cooler. Rogue noticed that his eyes were focusing on the tall, blonde Worthington.

"Nah. He's some guy who Ms. Monroe knows. No, my dad is the short one with the black hair," Rogue pointed. "Next to the guy with the awful haircut."

She glanced up at Cody, quickly, suddenly remembering that he had something very close to the cropped pudding bowl that the fourth instructor sported. "I mean--,"

"No, no, it's okay," Cody grinned, breathing out. "I care about whether my hair fits under a football helmet, not if it looks good. Hey, I think they're starting."

Rogue nodded. "You know, you're not half bad."

"Thanks. You know, well, I was serious when I said I'd like to see you at the dance. Well, actually," he fumbled for words as they moved toward the group that was coalescing around the three men, and Ororo in their white gi. "What I mean is. Dance. Er, no. I mean, with you. I wanted to dance with you."

Rogue looked up at him. "I got that, Cody. But I am still technically grounded for two weeks. This is only happening because my dad and sister are in it. But, you know, maybe if I knew you better, one little dance couldn't hurt me."

"Really?!" Cody beamed.

"If I know you better," Rogue said sharply. "I'm gonna be a bit blunt, but guys like you don't ask girls like me to dance outside of the movies."

"No, no, really, that's great," Cody began, when he felt an unfriendly, muscular arm wrap around his shoulder in a threateningly companionable manner.

Lance smiled at him, trying to ignore the fact that Cody was a little taller, and actually broader across the shoulders. "Hey, Rogue. I don't think I've met your friend."

"Cody, this is Lance," Rogue sighed. Well, she could grow attached to spinsterhood. "He's one of my oldest friends."

"Yeah," Lance was still smiling in a grim way. "Nice to meet you. I haven't seen you around before."

"Could the lovebirds in the back break the hugging session?" Logan's growl was audible over the crowd.

Lance and Cody disentangled very quickly indeed. Lance hoped that his body language stated that if Cody hurt Rogue, Lance could and would rip him apart like the San Andreas fault line. Cody sensed something threatening from Lance, but was not sure what it was about, unless Lance was trying to date Rogue, too. But that didn't seem likely, given the fact that Rogue was, well, notoriously single, and, well, Lance just wasn't her type. Then again, Cody wasn't sure he was either.

Ms. Monroe stood before the students. "Alright, I'm Ororo Monroe, for those who don't know me, already. This is Mr. Warren Worthington, the kind sponsor of this event. The man to my right is Logan Howlett, some of you who have taken day classes at The Wolverine might recognize him. Finally, this is our kind punching bag, Remy. Wave "hi" to the, kids Remy," Ororo stepped aside.

The tall young man tried not to narrow his eyes too much as he waved. "I will get you for this, ma'am," he muttered.

"Consider it part of your debt to society, if you will," Ororo suggested quietly as the blond Mr. Worthington moved to the center stage.

"Okay, so, we'll be working with one of the easiest throws today," Warren began, his voice carrying to the various teens. "This is the hip throw. It you have an attacker rushing at you, it is possible to pull them over you, using your own body as a fulcrum, and toss them over your hip as Ms. Monroe and Remy have kindly decided to demonstrate."

The brown haired man rushed at Ororo. She turned around, affected surprise for a few seconds, and then grabbed his wrists. In the crowd, Rogue winced. If the teacher kept full control over his body like that, the fall was going to hurt.

He hurled over the line of Ororo's body in a controlled throw. The white haired woman let the wrists go at the last second, and the man was able to break his fall less painfully. Getting up, he rolled his eyes. "And now we're going to do this even more slowly," he told the crowd loudly. "Watch Ms. Monroe, here, and try to place your feet the way she is."

Ororo suddenly grabbed an arm, and pulled him forward, across the line of her hip. He crashed head over heels into a roll that allowed him to bounce back upright. Breathing out, he turned around, and rushed right back at the teacher. Rogue nodded seriously to herself, before looking around as she heard a low whistle.

Kitty and the Darkholme boy were standing near by, watching the display. "Like, wow, Ms. Monroe is pretty strong," Kitty commented. "I don't think I could do that with a guy that size."

Rogue shook her head. "It's not that hard, actually. She's using his momentum, I'm more impressed by how she's using the grabs on his wrists. And she keeps her thumb out of the way each time. This is a lady who knows how to grapple."

"Really?" Cody asked.

"Yeah."

Rogue would have elaborated, but Kurt interrupted her with a low whistle. "Wow, I'm impressed by the guy they've got. You need to be really good to pull off the somersault he just did from that angle."

"Really?" Kitty asked, watching as Ororo carefully showed the importance of grip. "It doesn't look that hard."

Kurt shook his head. "Believe me, it is. Whenever I do circus camp I do acrobatics, and I'm not sure I could do it."

Rogue couldn't stop herself. "You get to go to circus camp?"

Kurt grinned, giving her an oblivious thumbs up. "Yeah. I've been doing acrobatics since I was little. My mother insisted. She used to be a great gymnast, you know."

Rogue looked back at the demonstration. "I didn't," she managed to get out between clenched teeth. How could she have known, anyway? It was not as though she was part of his mother's life.

"All right," Warren said. "Everyone think they got that? We'll come and pair you all up. Remember: be careful when you're throwing someone. Remy and Ororo are pros, and they both know how to do this without hurting each other. We'll be watching out for all of you, but this is why we had you sign waivers when you signed up."

Rogue smirked. She could do either the throw or being thrown with ease. Seeing as Mr. Acrobat was so near by, well, she could show him. Marie doubted that the Darkholme boy learned the kind of moves her father had taught her and Exie.

"Hey, Stripes, guess who you're working with?" Rogue turned to look at Logan. From his mocking expression, she wondered if he knew what she'd been thinking.

"You?"

"Bingo. Hey, Blondie, you're working with lover boy," Logan jerked his thumb at Lance, who went beet red.

"Hey!"

Exie put her hand on his shoulder. "Relax, Alvers. He's only ribbing you because he knows you. Just imagine what it would be like being paired with me."

Cody looked at Rogue. "You've got some scary folks."

From near by, Lance managed to mutter: "I like my partner just fine, Exie."

The various pairs stepped away from each other, trying to get enough space. Logan barely gave Rogue the space to think, though, when he came at her with a snarl. Training took over. Rogue grabbed his hands, and yanked him hard. He flew over her hip, allowing Rogue to get in a shot with her elbow as he passed under the tucked in arm. Flipping over in mid-air, Logan landed on the grass with his bear feet, and a pained look. "That was low, kid."

Rogue shrugged, trying not to look too contrite. "You're the one who always says that if I want to win against you, I've got to fight dirty."

"Glad to hear that you're listenin' then," he grinned, and launched himself at Rogue.

From the other side of the cemetery plots, Remy looked up from instructing Taryn on how to place her feet, so that her legs naturally slid into the line needed to act as the fulcrum of the throw. "That one knows her stuff, huh?"

Ororo was also watching. "Yes, and I think I'd better relieve Logan before he gets carried away. Or you could."

Rogue jumped over Logan's charge, kicking at the back of his head. The shorter man spun at the last possible second, his arm blocking the incoming leg, causing Rogue to flip backwards. He closed the distance between them with a punch. Gloved hands grabbed his arm, as the girl twisted out of the way, yanking him once more over her hip in the throw she was supposed to be practicing.

"Nah," Remy decided. "I'm good. She'd probably destroy me. Oh, non, non, you! Shades boy, tuck yourself when la belle rouge tosses you. You'll get your neck snapped, mon ami!"

Ororo walked over to the father-daughter pair as Remy taught Scott how to fall properly. "Logan, perhaps I should do this? You can tell me why you feel as though you can just attack my student later."

Rogue stood nervously. "Sorry, Ms. Monroe. Logan taught me how to fight last year."

"And this year, I hope," Logan glared warningly, as he backed off. "You can't hope to get good unless you work at it."

"Of course," Rogue smiled to herself, glad, once again, to be his daughter. There was no cooler dad in the world. "Ahh!"

Ororo had tackled her low. Falling, Rogue rolled away from the weight of her drama teacher. The white haired woman looked at Rogue critically as she got to her feet. "I am sorry, but if you've been training in self defense I thought you'd be ready for that."

Rogue managed to get on her knees. "I expect that kind of thing from him," she jerked her head at Logan, who smirked, before correcting Cody's stance as he threw Lance into the ground. "You're my sweet, lovable drama teacher."

Ororo smiled. "I suppose so. Why don't you pair up with Kurt and Kitty? They seem to be having some trouble."

Rogue looked over, not entirely enthusiastic. Kurt was springing around, turning cartwheels. "Can't catch me!"

Kitty had crossed her arms over her chest. "I am so not going to try, either. Now stop it, and do what we actually came here to do. You're supposed to be tackling me!"

Rogue waited, watching Kurt's movements for a few seconds. As he came up from a cartwheel, she lumped at him, crashing to the grass. "Tut, tut, you're supposed to throw me," she told him, smirking.

"Only if I suspect that you're going to ravish me," Kurt joked, before recoiling from her expression, which was the biggest study in disgusted that he had ever seen. "Alright. It wasn't funny. Let me up please?"

"Darn right, it wasn't funny," Rogue growled, getting off him, only to be tackled by Kitty.

She fell with a grunt, and then shoved the girl off her. "Ugh! What did I do to you?"

"I thought you were supposed to throw me?" Kitty replied innocently. "That hunky blonde guy said we should be switching parts a few moments ago."

Rogue sighed, and got up. "Alright, then, come at me. And try not to hit any grave stones when you go flying, 'kay? Darkholme can go and hang upside down in a tree for a while, or something."

Kurt grinned, before looking over the crowd. "Nah, I think, I see Jean leaving. I'll go give Scott a partner. See you two later?"

He ran over to Scott, who was looking vaguely embarrassed as the tall Remy lectured him about the finer points of falling. "Otherwise," Remy cautioned, "you end up in the mud on your back like a fool."

"Uh, thanks," Scott sighed. "Why don't you go and help, uh, someone else? I think I see my friend coming."

Remy smirked. He knew who he was going to help. The pretty red-head who had gotten tired, and walked back to her car looked like great helping material. Following, he found Red engrossed in a textbook, with an orange haired boy, who was wearing the most blinding assortment of oranges Remy had ever seen. Both seemed at their ease on the hood of a large green SUV. Occasionally Orangy would look at the people practicing hurling each other around, but for the most part he was chewing on a pencil glaring at a notebook.

"You could just go over there and talk to her, again," Jean commented, as a few more seconds elapsed with no sound of furious scribbling.

John tilted his head back to look at Jean upside down, a big grin on his face. "Hey, I'm here for Kurt, today. He got me ice cream waffles, and now I give him moral support, as he learns how to get hit."

"I made those ice cream waffles for you, you know," Jean told him archly. "What are you doing for me?"

"Morally supporting your decision to do homework instead of getting tossed all over the cemetery," he replied quickly.

Jean turned her eyes back to her chemistry text, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "You really don't like fighting, do you?"

John shrugged, finally giving his poor pencil a rest by trying to balance the worn thing on the end of his nose. "I like words, and I like staying far away from people who want to hurt me. If there was a way to get at them from far away, sure, I'd take it, but there isn't, so I'll just settle for talkin' myself out of a situation."

"You know," Remy commented, leaning on the car, "you two also could try coming back, and finishing. We've got a lovely afternoon, and lots more to show you. Especially Orange Pants, here."

Jean shook her head, while John lifted his head indignantly. "My name's St. John."

"Well, we all gotta be named something," Remy shrugged. "'M Remy, and this lovely lady was one performing some of the best tosses I'd ever seen. I'm a little curious why y'stopped, chere."

"I have homework," Jean replied. "I told Scott I'd only stay for twenty minutes. Anyway, while it's fun to throw things around, I have to agree with John. I prefer to talk things out."

"So," the Australian asked excitedly, "if, say, there'd been someone throwing all of your tea—friends around out of confusion for some unspecified reason, you'd be the one who'd take on my role, and actually try to help her? Or at least find out why she was so scared?"

Jean looked at John, confused by the entire line of questioning. "What?"

Remy was certain all the words he had heard were English, but he was not certain. "You have a very strange little world to live in, don't you?"

Reaching over, he took the notebook from John's fingers before the orange haired boy could protest. Brown eyes scanned over the page. "Wolverine held up his claws in negligent acknowledgment of the telepathic request.

'Hey, when I give a demo, I give a demo.'

Cyclops looked at the damaged parts strewn all over the room," on the page John had drawn an arrow with a note "need a name for this place." Remy's eyes skipped to it, but he continued to read the story out loud. "'Was that "demo" as in "demolish" or "demonstration"?' he asked, turning to--,"

"Gimme that!" John lunged forward, and toppled from the hood of the car.

Remy looked down at the prone form on the concrete of the parking lot. It raised one tanned arm. "My notebook, if you please? And any shards of my dignity that you happen to see lying around."

Jean put her chin on her hand as she looked down at John. "Was that your project for English?"

"Yeah," John's voice was still muffled by the concrete as he waited for the notebook patiently. After a moment he snapped his fingers.

Remy smirked, tapping the spiral binding of the notebook against his palm. "Nah, this is fun. I wanna see how long you'll keep this up."

"You're not a very nice guy, you know that?" John commented, rising from the concrete.

"I wouldn't be here if I was," Remy replied with a devious smile. "Still, though, you should come to this workshop. We're teaching body blocks, next."

John sighed. "I'll go, if you give the notebook back."

Remy, who'd had no intention of keeping the tatty school supply for long handed it back to John, who relaxed against the grill of the car. Remy raised an eyebrow. "Ain't cha coming?"

Bright blue eyes looked up at him innocently. "I lied."

Remy looked at him, fighting between appreciative approval, and slight annoyance. "Y'know, there's a girl over there that I think you might wanna meet. She likes talking with her fists."

John grinned, figuring that the other man was talking about Rogue. "I've found misnaming trees generally distracts her."

"Even if that wasn't the same girl, that was pretty quick, Sin Jin. Touche; y'got a head on your shoulders," Remy complimented him.

Jean rolled her eyes. "I swear, you two are a pair. Look, Mr.—,"

"LeBeau," Remy supplied, bowing to her.

"LeBeau," Jean continued, "we are fine with just watching, thanks."

"Well, I'll leave you in peace. Anything for a pretty lady, after all," he told her, winking.

Jean laughed. "Nice try. But I already have a boyfriend."

Remy shrugged, and turned to leave. He could hear from behind him John begin: "So, that thing with you and Duncan?"

"We've been talking. I was supposed to go to the dance with him on Friday, but well, Kurt's pajama party changed my plans," Jean's voice carried on the breeze.

Remy smiled. High school drama, thank goodness he'd gotten out of that early.


Did I just introduce Remy at the same time as making the Rogue/Cody relationship bloom, and pointing out that Johnny's not quite as over her as he'd like to think? Yes. So, review if you like. I like reviews.

~ MF