Authors Notes: Man, did this chapter give me some grief. These characters need to listen to me for once. But no, they gotta do their own thing! Especially Pyro. He's starting to grow on me, for some reason. I like the half-psychotic ones, apparently. I know he doesn't have much of a personality in EVO, but from what I have seen, the man enjoys his work far too much. But then, I'm pretty fond of fire myself. (I swear that setting the picnic table at work was sooo not my fault. Who knew it was that flammable?) Maybe it's a sign?
Have been distracted recently by newest addition to the household. We have bunnies! Three of 'em we rescued from the lawnmower. They are just so cute! So, add in the pet squirrel, the hermit crab, the cats, chickens, and the dog, and we almost have a farm. Or a very odd petting zoo.
There is some plot in this. Yay me. Things are progressing slowly. But honestly, I have an inkling of where this is going. Of course, that inkling could become rabid at any moment and wander off in it's own direction. It's been known to happen. Rabid inklings on the loose! Beware!

---

Nightcrawler: "Blast! It's cold. You better have central heating laid in, mom...
Mystique: "Good grief. I go to the length of finding a father for you who carried fur in his genes and still you moan!"
(X-calibur #3)

---

4/?
Had A Bad Day Again
ChaosCat
4 July 2003

---

"There's no sign of 'em, Chuck." Wolverine, a man many would have preferred performing ritual suicide before facing in combat, was not pleased. "But she was here not that long ago. And not alone. Looks like they had some company, and they weren't the friendly type."

He stood amid the wreckage of what had been the interior of an apartment. At the moment, it resembled a trash heap. It had been completely trashed. The furniture lay in shambles about him. He kicked aside half of an end table with a growl.

The more experienced of Xavier's students had accompanied him on this mission. Kitty, Kurt, Scott, and Jean had refused to remain behind after the Professor had informed them he had been able to locate Rogue in New York City. Which left many questions unanswered as well. What was Rogue doing in the City? Was quickly followed by, where the hell was she now?

"Thank you, Wolverine." Professor Xavier's clipped, professional voice carried back over the comlink.

"Someone trashed the place really well, Professor." Cyclops reported, shifting through the rubble.

It was a fruitless endeavor. There was nothing left behind worth investigation. Whoever had been there before them had cleaned the place out fairly well.

"Ja." Nightcrawler broke in. "Look at the walls!"

He pointed the aforementioned wall. It was riddled with holes, chunks of the wooden paneling blown out entirely in places.

"Pretty heavy firepower." Kurt turned to Wolverine, caught by a sudden thought. "Do you think Rogue was shot?"

"No smell of blood, kid." Wolverine shook his head. "I'd say they escaped."

"How can you be so sure?" Cyclops frowned at the certainty in Logan's voice.

"And like, who is they?" Kitty asked at the same time.

Wolverine stalked to the window, shattered chunks of glass crunching beneath his boots. He crossed his arms.

"Window's been broken from the inside. This is how they escaped." He informed them. "Had to be another person. This apartment doesn't belong to Rogue, now does it?"

With a quick BAMF! Kurt was perched on the window ledge, peering down.

"Man, that's a long drop!" He exclaimed. "How could she had walked away from that? And where -is- she?"

"Kurt!" Cyclops grabbed the blue elf by the tail and gave him a not so subtle jerk. It had its intended effect, as Kurt was pulled off the ledge. "Do you really want to be seen by half of New York?"

"Oh, sorry."

"Nice place." Kitty remarked, kicking at a chunk of wood. She wasn't entirely certain, but she thought it might have once been cabinet door.

"It used to be, from the look of things." Kurt remarked.

"Until someone redecorated." Cyclops added.

"The question is, whose place was it?" Logan growled, looking back at the window. He continued as if he hadn't been interrupted. "Had to be two of them. Rogue's not heavy enough to break that on her own."

"Someone could have been like, thrown through it," Kitty suggested.

"That's really a comforting thought, Kitty." Nightcrawler turned to shoot her a dirty look. She just shrugged.

"It was just an option, Kurt." She responded.

"No, Wolverine is right."

The four students turned as Jean Grey entered the room. Wolverine continued his examination of the window and surrounding area, still looking for any clue that might help the search.

"At least, from what I can gather from the minds of a few onlookers." The redhead began relaying the information she'd managed to glean from the memories of the crowd. "Apparently, two people did crash through the window just a few minutes before we arrived. One of them was Rogue. The other was a man wearing a trench coat. I couldn't get good look at him from any of their memories."

"Are they okay?" That was from Kitty.

"They landed in the hedge, apparently uninjured, and then ran off. That's the most I could find out."

"Well, the neighbors didn't seem very concerned, did they?"

"This is New York City." Kitty pointed out. "Like, this kind of thing happens every day. Don't you watch the news?"

"She has a point." Jean conceded.

"But where did they go?" Kurt's tail was flicking from side to side, a sure sign he was agitated.

"I'm not sure. Perhaps the Professor can help." Jean closed her eyes, opening her mind and gently reaching out with her fledgling telepathy towards Xavier. ~ Professor? ~

~Jean?~

Jean explained the situation to the Professor in a few short moments. It was liberating, speaking in such a manner. Words were, for the most part, less important than the feelings and images, which flowed between two telepaths.

~There is a chance, now that I have located her once. She could not have gotten far.~ The Professor mused. ~However, Rogue's mental shields are quite strong, when she is concentrating on them, especially for someone who possesses no telepathic talent. ~

~Why is that, Professor? ~

~ It is her mutation, Jean. She is constantly shielding herself from all those she has absorbed in the past. Many of the residual fragmented psyches remained trapped there; even long after the initial contact has faded. ~

~ I see. ~ Jean sounded thoughtful. ~ Do you have any hopes of finding her? ~

~ Perhaps, after all, I helped her create those shields. In the aftermath of the incident at the concert, we thought it best. ~ The Professor explained. ~ I may need your help. I would suggest moving to another location, however, and soon. The authorities are bound to make an appearance soon. I will be in touch. ~

Jean felt the Professor withdraw, and opened her own eyes to meet the eager gazes of her teammates. Even Logan was eying her. She knew the gruff older man was worried about Rogue. They all were.

"There is a chance."

***

"Incompetence." He dropped the phone back on the cradle and brought his fingers together, folding his hands atop a stack of files on his desk. "Complete and utter incompetence."

"What did you expect?" A woman stepped from the shadows of his office, a smirk playing on her lips. "They are only human, after all."

"Indeed." He responded thoughtfully.

She walked across the office, the sway of her hips almost mesmerizing. Her hair, the colour reminiscent of a dark, rich wine, framed her face and hung in a thick curtain down her back. The skirt was short, the jacket long. And the tanned legs beneath even longer. He had, undoubtedly seen it all before, and gave her no more than a passing glance as she crossed his field of vision.

"They failed to retrieve a single girl." There was no agitation in his tone, only casual indifference.

"Twice." She added pertly, seating herself across the desk from him. Her legs crossed. "In the span of 24 hours."

"You are enjoying your new host." It was not a question, coming from him.

"She resists me still." The woman replied. Her voice carried a heavy British enunciation. "And yet with increasing feebleness. Her powers are vast, however. The telepathy is most helpful. I am grateful you found her, Doctor."

He only nodded, his gaze traveling to the files on his desk. The topmost one was open, its contents neatly spread. She watched him for a moment, the silence broadening between them. She knew he would speak when he was ready, and not a moment before. He was the boss. She tossed her head, revealing a flash of the flawless skin of her neck, and the black choker there, marked by the ivory emblem of a woman's profile.

"Failure is not tolerated."

"You wish me to handle them?" There was an eagerness in her voice which had been previously absent. She shifted in her seat, uncrossing her legs.

"Of course." He answered. "Discreetly, if possible."

"Always." She purred.

"Then we will see to the other matter."

"The girl?"

"Yes."

The woman frowned, folding her arms across her chest. She slid just a centimeter lower in her chair, eying the open file on his desk. The pages of text themselves were unreadable from this angle, but the photographs were clearly visible. Several of them were snapshots of the girl in question.

"Why expend the effort for her, Doctor?" She inquired, her tone carefully bland. "For just a single mutant."

The Doctor raised a brow at his subordinate, snapping the manila file folder closed, the contents tucked neatly inside.

"Are you questioning my decisions now?" The threat was palpable, even if his tone was politely bland. She could feel it thrumming below the surface.

"Of course not."

He stood, and she did the same.

"I expect this matter to be resolved within the week."

She knew what he was speaking of. The shift in conversation was not a surprise. She only tipped her head in agreement, letting that cascade of mauve tresses fall forward over her shoulder. A smile settled upon her lips once more. This assignment promised to be most entertaining.

"Now, I have a press conference to prepare for." He scooped the stack of files from his desk and began to stride for the door. She followed behind him obediently.

***

"Gambit home."

The tall Cajun announced their presence by throwing the door open, revealing the interior of the penthouse office suites. Rogue's eyes widened at the swanky surroundings. She lived in a mansion, but expensive things tended to get broken with the X-men around. Especially the younger students.

When Gambit had led her to the top floor of the building, Rogue hadn't known what to expect. This was certainly not on the list. Posh furniture, artfully placed, decorated the main office space sparingly. A large chandelier, a centerpiece for the expansive room, lit the room. There were two hallways that branched off in opposite directions, their destinations unknown to the young X-Man. The classy surroundings were the only reason Rogue was surprised. They weren't exactly alone.

"Ya know Remy, I think it's against the rules to be bring a Sheila to the base. Remember what happened last time?"

The first comment came from a casually dressed man with bright blonde hair, currently perched on the couch in front of the big screen TV. He was eying them both with curiosity.

"But Remy not going to keep her." The Cajun grinned. "Unless, of course, she wants to be kept."

Gambit winked at Rogue, which caused her to frown sharply and distance herself from him. She hadn't realized it, but she'd been practically attached to his side. How embarrassing. Her movement caused the man on the couch to laugh uproariously.

"She doesn't think much of your charm, does she mate?"

The blonde apparently thought the scene was entirely to amusing. He was Australian, given the accent. Dressed in a pair of frayed khaki shorts and an old band tee shirt, he didn't look intimidating. But he was somewhat familiar; she just couldn't place him at the moment. Not unexpected, considering how her day had begun. And was continuing to be.

He bounded from his seat, much akin to a jackrabbit, and in a moment was standing before the two of them.

"St. John Allerdyce." He introduced himself cordially. "At yer service, luv."

"Be careful, chere." Gambit smirked as he spoke softly, but just loudly enough for St. John to hear. "He's just a little crazy."

"Who? Me? Shouldn't be spreading such lies about your mate like that, Cajun!" John looked almost offended, but that grin was still in place.

That grin. Almost psychotic.

"Pyro!" She blurted out. It was more of an accusation than a statement.

St. John quirked a brow, then looked pleased with himself.

"In the flesh." The Australian took a second look. "Bloody Christ, Gambit! You brought one of the bloody X-men home!"

At that mere word, several things happened instantaneously. Pyro leapt back about two feet, nearly tripping over the couch. One of the doors elsewhere in the suite opened, revealing one of the largest men Rogue had ever seen. The man was obviously a poster-child for steroids, or hired brawn. He adopted the unofficial strongman stance: arms folded and legs shoulder length apart.

Then, of course, there was Pietro. His presence didn't startle her. He had sold them all out once before to help is father. His loyalties were clear. The spastic spawn of Magneto just appeared in front of her, grey eyes wide. She was surprised to see him as well. The lithe, handsome boy was a member of the Brotherhood, even after he had betrayed them all. Why was he here?

"Rogue?" There was shock in his tone. It was soon gone as his began speaking. "Oh man! You-brought-an-X-geek-here? Boy-are-you-gonna-get-it-when-my-father-gets-home! He's-gonna-"

"Pipe down, Chachie." Pyro snapped, pushing the younger boy off balance. The speed demon toppled over on the couch, glaring up at the firebug maliciously.

"Where the hell am Ah?" Rogue thought it a good time to brouch the subject, considering they were talking about her.

She had a pretty good idea where she was without asking. One of Magneto's little hide-outs, no doubt. Still, she wanted answered. Putting her hands on her hips and adopting a defensive stance, Rogue awaited a reply, or an attack, whichever came first. Technically, the Xavier and Magneto had come to an unofficial, unspoken truce after the incident with the giant spider. At least until this business with Apocalypse was complete. Rogue hadn't been there, but she'd heard about it from Kurt and the others afterwards. That didn't mean she trusted them.

"Dis be Rogue." Gambit gestured to his companion.

"'Allo Rogue." St. John chirped.

"That does not answer mah question!" Rogue glared at them all.

"Remy thought that was obvious, Chere." He winked at her, much to her annoyance. "Meet the Acolytes. Already know Gambit, and Quicksilver de daddy's boy. Met John, de crazy one. And there's the quiet one, Piotr."

His sarcasm was not appreciated. Rogue contemplated punching him in the stomach, But then decided she'd rather deck him, just to knock that cocky expression off. It would be worth it, she decided with a semi-evil grin.

"Have ya gone loony, LeBeau?" Pyro collapsed backwards onto the couch next to Pietro. He flung a magazine at the boy, who was frowning at him. "Ya can't just go bringing the enemy home for dinner!"

"Didn't seem to have much of a choice. Being chased by some very unfriendly fellows. Besides, it's not like Magneto won't change places next week, anyway."

"That's-besides-the-point-Cajun!"

"Someone was chasing ya?"

"Oui, dey were after de femme. Gambit must defend the lady, non?"

"You are such an ass, Swamp Rat."

"Your words wound me, Chere."

"Quit callin' me that!" Her fist itched to be planted in his jaw. She only wished she had hit him harder when she had first woken up.

"Don't think she cares for your charm much, Remy." St. John grinned. "That's a first."

"Stop-changing-the-subject!" Pietro snapped. His words were spoken with such speed, it was often hard to determine where one ended and the next began. "You-know-the-rules! My-father-"

"Your father this, your father that." St. John rolled his eyes. "Give it a rest kid."

"Maybe Gambit not too good with the rules."

"Maybe-Gambit-should-stop-speaking-with-that-stupid-accent-and-start-referring-to-himself-in-first-person!" Pietro quickly replied, his eyes flashing with obvious dislike directed toward the tall man.

They were like very small children, Rogue thought to herself. This was beginning to get ridiculous. How had she ended up in the middle of New York City, at one of Magneto's bases? Once again, this was just not her day. Not even mentioning the trouble she was going to get into once she got back to the Institute. If she got back to the Institute. She was apparently at the mercy of a house full of mutant terrorists who didn't seem to be accomplishing much more than arguing like boys.

Pietro and Gambit were currently in the middle of something that looked suspiciously like a staring contest. Something Rogue was familiar with witnessing many such matches between the younger kids at the Institute. St. John was just watching, that grin still plastered across his features.

"Excuse me, ya'll." Rogue broke in. "Seeing as how Ah didn't exactly ask to be here, Ah think Ah'll just leave."

She whirled, intent upon making it back to the door before any of them could stop her. She might have succeeded too, if she hadn't found herself nose to, well, chest, with Piotr Rasputin. Even without the metal skin, he was intimidating.

"You will have to forgive the behavior of my teammates, Miss Rogue." His voice was low and soothing. It carried a very cultured Russian accent.

"What?" Rogue was almost flustered. And Rogue was never flustered.

"Perhaps you'd like a cup of tea?" There was no menace in Piotr's tone, but still, Rogue hesitated. "I'd like to ask you a few questions."

She thought briefly of attempting to absorb him and then make a hasty retreat. But given the time it would require to remove he glove, he'd probably be able to send her through a window. She'd already done that today, and had no desire to repeat the experience. She was, it seems, at an impasse.

***

That was how Rogue found herself drinking tea with Magneto's Acolytes. Seated in a nice, comfy and undoubtedly expensive armchair, Rogue found herself strangely at ease with supposed 'bad guys.' Although, technically at the moment, she supposed that having a truce with them meant they weren't the 'bad guys,' right? She couldn't shake the feeling that she'd somehow fallen into Wonderland, and was currently at the Mad Hatters Tea Party. All that was missing was the Dormouse.

Gambit had done most of the talking, explaining bits of pieces of their earlier escapade. It suited Rogue just fine. She didn't enjoy being in the spotlight. She only wanted to slink back into the shadows, hoping most people forgot about her. It was easier that way.

Piotr listened with polite curiosity, only interrupting to clarify something or another. Pietro sulked, not that anyone was surprised. St. John, on the other hand, played with his lighter, acting bored throughout most of the story. His feet propped up on the coffee table, he was the very picture of a laid-back slacker. He made a comment or two, usually making fun of Remy. The Acadian would grin and make a remark in return.

Watching them all lounging about, Rogue was once again struck by the similarities between them and every other teenage boy she'd ever met, goofing off. It was bizarre to say the least. Their lax attitude could have something to do with the lack of the presence of Magneto, which was more than likely a good thing for Rogue. She didn't think he'd be pleased to see her in the home of the Acolytes.

"I see." Piotr's voice intruded on her thoughts. Remy had finished his tale, obviously.

Rogue looked up at him, but he said nothing more.

"My-father-would-know-what-to-do-about-this."

"Too bad he's not here then, non?"

"Maybe he's the one behind it." Rogue snapped, her tone more vicious than usual.

"What are you trying to say?" Pietro was quick to jump to the defensive.

"Ah think Ah said it pretty clear."

"Listen you-" The teen was on his feet now.

"Pietro, calm yourself." Piotr's calm voice cut in. He could have been threatening, with his bulk and considerable abilities, but instead, he sounded more like a tired mediator.

"Why are you here, Pietro?" Rogue pressed the issue, drawing the silver-haired youth's attention back to her.

"What?"

"Ah thought you were with the Brotherhood now."

"What-if-I-am?"

"Then what are you doing here?" She spat out. "Turning traitor again?"

Their eyes locked for a moment, and what Rogue saw in those gray depths surprised her. For a brief moment, hurt flashed within his gaze. A deep, resounding hurt that almost made her regret saying anything. Then it was gone, replaced by fury.

"What do –you- know about anything?" His words were spoken carefully, with determined slowness.

Rogue was about to reply when another voice broke in.

"Pietro, sit."

The silver haired boy whirled to face Colossus, who was still sitting patiently, holding a teacup in one hand.

"I-don't-believe-this!" Pietro said. He seemed much more agitated than he had only moments before. Before Rogue had spoken. "You're-taking-her-side?"

"Hey mate, chill!"

"Mon ami, perhaps you should calm down, no?"

"Fine!-I'll-calm-down!" The speedster said angrily. "You-guys-taking-her-side? One-of-the-X-MEN? I'm-outta-here! And-just-you-wait!"

With that final threat hanging in the air, Quicksilver was gone, leaving only the resounding slamming of the door in his wake. For a moment, the room was silent, the four occupants looking at each other.

"Who needs soap operas around here?" St. John grinned. The Aussie seemed to regard everything as some form of entertainment.

Gambit said nothing. He had declined to sit, and was currently leaning against the wall, flicking a card between his forefinger and thumb. His gloved fingers manipulated the card artfully. Piotr said nothing, only sat on the couch, a thoughtful expression on his face. He looked the part of the stoic, tragic hero perfectly. Rogue blinked, wondering where that thought had come from.

She had to get out of here. She didn't think she was a prisoner, but at the moment, she just wasn't sure. Most captors don't offer their prisoners tea, did they? She found herself wondering this while staring at her cup. Of course, she didn't know if she were free to leave, either. If it came down to a fight, her options weren't looking good.

"Chere?"

She turned to glare at the offender, who could only be one person.

"Don't call me that."

St. John chuckled. Rogue turned her patented Glare of Impending Death upon the Aussie. He stopped quite abruptly, giving her a shrug while taking another gulp of his tea. The lighter had been abandoned for the moment.

"Why not, Chere?"

"Listen Swamp Rat, if ya had a brain, ya'd know better than to be insulting. Especially to me." Rogue snarled, beginning to work the glove off her right hand.

"Ah, but Remy would never dream of insulting a belle femme like yourself." He grinned, not seeming the least bit perturbed by her threats. He was the very picture of the ultimate pretty boy, with just enough hint of that roughness around the edges.

She hated him.

"Cajun, yer just oozing charm today, aren't ya?" St. John was practically hooting with laughter.

This outburst caused both Rogue and Gambit to turn and glare at him. He only gave them an entirely too innocent to be plausible look.

***

As they say, all good (or, even in this case, bizarre) things must eventually come to an end. In this particular instance, it came in the form of the untimely arrival of the last of the Acolytes.

Door slamming behind him, Victor Creed stood in the threshold, his nostrils quivering as he sniffed the air. All heads in the living room turned to stare at him. He looked much as he always did. Tall. Hairy. And pissed off.

"Where?"

It was a word, but the way Creed uttered it, it sounded more than the growl of some feral animal, which was not too far off the mark. The question hung in the air, as they all knew exactly whom he was referring to. Gambit straightened immediately, just as Creed's gaze caught Rogue's. They glared at each other each other intently, neither willing to be the first to look away. The tension rose, an almost tangible beast hovering between them.

Creed growled, stalking closer to the armchair Rogue was sitting in. She felt her own expression begin to mirror his. She'd absorbed Creed before, and thus, she knew him well. Better than most of the Acolytes, no doubt. After all, she had seen into his mind. The tangle of memories had faded, but a few fleeting flickers of him still remained, buried deep in her mind. It was the same with everyone she had absorbed. Their memories, hopes, and dreams were all inside her. His mind was not very pleasant, but the least pleasant was the burning rage inside the mutant known as Sabretooth. A rage that was, at this moment, directed at her.

"Mon ami-" Gambit had smoothly interposed himself between the hulking Sabretooth and Rogue.

However, Creed was having none of that, giving the Cajun a powerful shove, nearly sending the slim man flying across the room, without a thought. Rogue's gaze flickered to Gambit, almost concerned for him. Creed was fond of shoving people around, and he definitely wasn't gentle. A flash of movement distracted her, and Rogue whirled back around to face the front. In that moment, he was there, snarling in her face. His clawed fingers gripped the armrests of her chair, ripping long furrows in the plush fabric there in his fury.

"Ya want something, Creed?" She snapped, showing only her agitation as the bulky mutant leering at her, and none of her anxiety.

"What the hell are you doing here?" He snarled, then grinned unpleasantly. "Little X-brat comes to play?"

"Back off."

"You think you can order me around, little girl?" He smirked.

"Maybe." She shot back, raising one hand meaningfully.

Creed glanced at the offending appendage warily, still growling savagely. He wasn't taking her threat seriously. That was probably a bad sign.

"I t'ink maybe you leave de femme alone, eh mon ami?" That came from Gambit. He was flipping that card again, although this time there was an edge to his movements.

"Shove it, LeBeau."

"I think not."

"Is that so?" Creed's eyes never left Rogue.

He was a predator to the core, and that had never been more evident to Rogue than at that moment. She stared back at him defiantly. Her purple lips set into a grim line, emerald eyes flashing. She knew she could push him over the edge with little more than a few well-placed verbal barbs. The question was, would she survive the encounter?

"What's wrong, Creed?" She smiled. "Not getting your way?"

"I could snap your neck before you'd have time to scream."

"You're welcome to try."

She tilted her head up at him, exposing her pale throat. She knew he wouldn't dare such a thing, although she only wished he would. At least as long as her skin, the bane of her existence and the source of her mutation, was bare.

She was crazy, Gambit thought with a start. The belle femme was crazy. She was actually provoking Creed. She knew of his unhinged nature, surely. And yet, there she was, the expression in her jade-hued eyes daring Sabretooth to make good on his threat.

Once more, he was struck by her beauty. It was a dark, impervious thing, much like the independent creature that possessed it. Remy LeBeau thought himself an excellent judge of beautiful things. Especially if he were stealing those things. And beautiful women were no exception. Neither were the hearts of those women.

Rogue was no exception. Many would find her choice in clothing, and heavy make-up excessive, and even "freakish." Her standoffish attitude to be unattractive. And her sarcasm unwarranted. Not Remy LeBeau. He found her intriguing, the say the least. The ultimate challenge for a thief of his caliber. The untouchable.

His interest in her had just begun shift out of the purely professional range.

"Chere-"

His words were lost as the front door exploded inward in a burst of crimson light. He cursed himself to not being more aware of his surroundings.

And then all hell broke loose.

---

Hope everyone enjoyed that? It's sorta a cliffhanger-type thing, right? The next update will come soon. Will be out of town for a bit, so I'll need a bit of time to work on Chapter Five. At the moment, it needs a major overhaul. But you can guess what is going to happen next.
No real fluffyness in this chapter. But hey, no one is in love yet. Remy is intrigued. And Rogue, well, I think she wants to beat him into unconsciousness with a candlestick or something. I thought it was appropriate, given her EVO persona. Still, they have that unspoken attraction going on. Ummm, sorta. It's chemistry, my friends.
And, there was a glimpse of the antagonist of the story, which I hope you folks enjoyed as well. It was my favorite part to write, honestly. I like bad guys. They are fun. I bet you can guess who the "assistant" is, right? And the identity of her "host?"

Questions? Comments? Hate mail?

Thanks to Chaka, bunny angel (who I hope, enjoyed the little bit of plot development in this chapter), and Yumiko for being so supporting with reviewing! It means a lot to know that people are still reading this thing! Thanks again!

Makura Koneko -- Thank you for the compliment ^.^ I was hoping that my Remy/Rogue dialogue wasn't too cliché or anything. I only wish those two would behave themselves though, and listen to me! We really gotta do something about these rampant characters. (Those "silly mortals" keep getting in the way of my writing time, anyway. Jeez. You'd think they'd learn ^.^) And ya know, you need to continue Turning of the Tables! I've read it. It's fantastic.

Bettie-chan -- I hope this gave you some insight on the bad guy plot thing? This story IS going to have one. I swear! If you have any other questions, feel free to ask!

Carla -- Wow! That was such a nice thing to say! Am not offended at all. Only thrilled that you think my writing has improved! That makes me bubble over with girlish glee. I'm really glad you like the fic too! You totally deserve a hug!

Chaka -- You are sooo sweet! Thanks so much for reviewing! It really makes my day!

Ishandahalf -- Yay! I got the fangirl squeal! *huggles* Now I don't have to hide behind my keyboard! I know what you mean about Rogue though. I like my Southern Belle with some spitfire. I think Remy brings it out in her. Those two are so cute. Don't worry, there will be fluff! It will happen. But I just gotta keep working on it. Those two are so stubborn, you know. Give me a few more chapters, and I will see what I can do.

Girl number 1 -- Glad you liked the last chapter. Hope you like this one. There are ACOLYTES in it! Yay for them. I like the bad guys. 'Specially Pyro. Don't worry, there will be no Rogue running off with Remy. Then where would all the ass-kicking to be found at? Magneto will make an appearance later, as he has some inkling of what is happening.