I was holding onto a small strand of hope that WB would air the last four episodes of season three the week before X2 came out.  But alas, my lifeline turned out to be an anchor yet again.  So, I have decided to start with my main story.  In the event WB does air new episodes before I am done, I will try to incorporate them into diary chapters in the midst of my own storyline.  Anyway, I hope you enjoy.

~Strange Allies~

The bell rang, the doors flew open, and the entire student body of Bayville High flooded into the halls in celebration of one thing, the end of school on a Friday.  However one student wasn't running through the halls.  Not because she wasn't happy, quite the contrary, but because she still couldn't believe the news she had received that morning.

*I'm getting my own room.*  She thought as she shut her locker.  The Rogue stood in the hall as the student body rushed by her as they sprinted for freedom.

"I'm getting my own room."  She said it aloud, and the words seemed even more wonderful floating freely out in the halls of the school than they were in the confinement of her head.

No one was really eager to bring up the fact that since Evan's departure a free room sat empty in the mansion.  But Storm had finally gotten around to his various items and placing them in the attic for storage.  None of this was known to Rogue, but while she had been lying in the medical ward Ororo had made plans for her to take her nephew's old room.  Now that Dr. McCoy had released her, she could move in this very afternoon.  Needless to say this comfort of knowledge made he return to Bayville High, slightly less painful.

She saw kitty making her way through the tide of people over to her.  She smiled just thinking that no more would she have to wake up to the teeny bop music of her roommate's clock radio in the morning. 

"You know, you could show a little tact."  Kitty interjected watching as her roommate almost pranced up to her in the hall.  Well, as close to prancing as she could ever picture Rogue.

"Come on Kitty, Its not like I'm moving out.  I'll be at the end of the hall."  Rogue smiled at the irony, she was supposed to be surly and Kitty happy.  Talk about a personality shift.

"I guess."  Kitty crossed her arms and looked at the tile floor as they continued to walk to the exit.  "And I guess it will be nice not having to, like, listen to your God-awful music every time you get depressed."

"And it's going to be nice to get a break from your snoring."  Rogue smiled and cut her eyes to watch Kitty's reaction.

Kitty's eyes doubled in size as she looked at her friend.  "I do not snore!" 

"Hon,"  Rogue explained placing a gloved hand on her friend's shoulder.  "I can't count the times I woke up and thought a log truck was crashing in through the window."  She took Kitty's hand and proceeded to pull her down the hall.  "Now will you come on, I don't want to miss a ride back, I've got to move my stuff!"

Kitty rolled her eyes as she was drug through the mob of people and into the parking lot.  Although she did wish she would show a little less excitement about moving out of her room, it was good to see Rogue in such a good mood.

~~~:*:~~~

He looked up past the green leaves and the chirping birds to a beautiful, clear blue spring sky. 

"Remy, what have you gotten yourself into dis time?"  He asked the same spring sky aloud.  "Get out into de real world, get a job, figure out what you want to do wit your life, take a job with a mutant extremist and save the world from the Apocalypse."  Yep, what a tangled web he wove.

Remy LeBeau always prided himself for getting along with any and everybody.  Being able to quickly get into someone's good graces and stay there was an invaluable asset in his preliminary line of work.  So the former professional thief sat contemplating the crew he was part of. 

John was easy enough to get along with.  He was always eager to strike up a conversation, tell a raunchy joke, his personal favorite being the one about the three nuns and the donkey.  But the boy had some serious problems.  He had lost count of the times he had walked into an empty room to see John just staring into a flickering flame. 

He couldn't honestly say he had a serious quarrel with Sabertooth, but he couldn't honestly say that he didn't either.  Victor was like the surly, 'roided out jock in high school.  Pass him in the hall and it would be a good day if you just got a grunt and a quick shove into a locker.  If you asked him, he was carrying the animal mutation just a little too far.  Gambit usually let it go, but one day shaggy was going to find a glowing ace of spades shoved down his throat.

Pietro was a good kid, but really tried his nerves.  He was someone who desperately wanted the open approval and acceptance of his father, but he would go running (no pun intended) to him at the slightest hint of any trivial problem.  The boy needed to realize that Magneto's approval would be gained by proving that he was able to handle things himself.

Then there was Magneto himself.  Magneto paid him, gave him his assignments, and that was it.  He didn't see much of the man outside of work, but Remy did have respect for him.  He was powerful, true; but Remy's respect came from the way the man carried himself.  Professionalism was an understatement for Eric Lesher.  This was the same type of respect he carried for his father, minus the love he had for the man that raised him.

Out of them all, he would have to say that he and Piotr had the best relationship.  No bullshit, I'm here to do my job, and you are here to do yours.  Somebody about the sneak up and hit you from behind, their will be either a card or metal fist on the way shortly.

*Oh well.*  He thought.  *At least dis beats de city.*  He thought watching the leaves on the trees.  *Anything better than living in that concrete prison.*

~~~:*:~~~

"Give that back Kurt!"  Kitty yelled.

"Hey, no eating in the car!"  Scott called to the backseat.

"Just one Kitty, I missed lunch today."  Kurt pleaded.

"Has anyone seen my lipstick?"  Jean asked rummaging through her purse, ignoring the rabble.

Rogue swung over the side and out of the backseat of Scott's car as he came to a stop before the garages; how something as simple as a bag of twizzelers started so much crap she would never know.

Knowing that this would go on for at least an hour, she decided to make herself scarce, especially since she didn't want the argument continuing while they were moving her stuff.

She enjoyed the institute grounds, especially in the spring.  Spring had always been her favorite season back in Mississippi, although it seemed to be the shortest of the year.  Be time the flowers started to bloom and the grass burst up with new green life, the smothering humid heat of summer seemed to move in and choke it all out.

But this was New York, and even the hottest day of summer would be like a mild day of spring back home.  Of course she had to put up with eight months of overcast winter, but she had four whole months and beautiful weather to forget about that.

A chill ran up her spine, stopping her walk.  Something like a sixth sense going off inside her body.  The birds continued to sing, but something made Rogue stop in the pathway, and look into the nook that held a small bench and birdbath.

It took her a moment to recognize him when she looked down the path to the little clearing.  Sandaled feet, a pair of cutoff shorts, and a Hawaiian shirt were nothing she would expect him in.  So what she had only met him face to face twice, but he still looked out of character.  He apparently heard her footsteps, and raised his head from hanging over the back of the bench.

Yep, it was him.  His red on black eyes were hidden by a pair of sunglasses, but no one could mistake the smirk he was giving her at the moment.

"Nice clothes."  She commented coldly.

"What?"  He asked, examining the bright yellow shirt with the blue flowers on it.  "Even Remy get a day off once and a while."  He lowered the glasses, showing a glimpse of the demon eyes, looking over her long sleeves and gloves.  "Too hot to be running around in anything else."

"Who's Remy?"  She asked, ignoring the implied comment about her state of dress.

"Remy's Remy."  He rose from the bench and walked to where she continued to stand in the main path.  "Remy LeBeau."  He took a gloved hand, bowing to kiss it before it was jerked away.

Rogue backed up a step, crossing her hands over her chest.  "Do you always refer to yourself in the third person?"

"And you are?"  He asked, reddish brown eyebrow lifting over the rim of the glasses as he ignored her venomous question.  A moment of silence passed with no response.  "Well, I guess I'll just have to call you Chere den."

"It's Rogue."  She huffed.

He smiled.  "Pleasure to formally meet you."  He bowed elegantly, and Rogue had to resist the urge to kick him in the teeth while he was conveniently positioned for her to do so.

"You call this formal?"

He rose back to his full height, tilting his head slightly to the side as he answered.  "More formal than during a fight, or when Remy is already preoccupied with babysitting."

"I'm glad you reminded me of that fight."  She closed the distance between them, poking his chest with a very stern finger.  "You could have blown my hand off!"

He didn't back away in the slightest.  "Now why would I want to go and do a thing like that?  Remy just put enough power into that card to give you a little scare."  He took the finger pressed to his chest and examined the hand it belonged to closely.  "Wouldn't of done more than give me a boo boo to kiss."

*Is he mentally ill?*  She jerked her hand away.  "Just what are you doing here?"

"Glad you asked, I be waitin on someone to give me the nickel tour of de plantation.  You be that someone?"  He asked, the half grin returning to his face.

"Hardly."  She glared at him and backed away a little.  "Magneto can't come by himself, he's got to bring along a bodyguard?"

"Remy no bodyguard, less your body needs guarding Chere."  Another suggesting smirk met with a death glare.  "Magneto wanted me to take a look at the first key, those rings, see if anything rang a bell."  Remy looked around.  "Piotr and St. John be somewhere around here too."

"So I guess you had better go find them shouldn't you?"  She started walking back down the path towards the mansion.

"Nah, I think John was just looking to get out of de base, and Piotr had to come along to keep him out of trouble."  He started walking next to her.  "And since I don't see any smoke I guess he has tings under control, non?"

They kept walking in silence, Rogue not answering his question in fear of some sort of impending innuendo.  Why were these paths so friggin long, the sooner she got to the mansion the sooner she could be rid of her shadow.

"So you're an expert on artifacts?"  She asked from the nagging curiosity, pondering why someone as old as herself would have an interest in such things.  She also hoped that his reply would distract her for the rest of the quickened walk back to the mansion.

"No, Remy not what you think he is, he just had a lot of exposure to some of the finer items on this earth."  He yawned, stretching his long arms out into the sunlight that peeked through the trees.  "Remy be a thief."

"A thief?"  Rogue asked as his hands returned to his pockets, grateful that the idiot didn't try to put an arm around her shoulder.  If you asked her he was walking too close for comfort, but she would be damned if she would give him the satisfaction of backing away.

"Yep, not a mugger or anything like that, anybody can pull a gun on someone in an alley.  Remy like the good stuff."

"You mean money." 

"Money is a part of it, but Remy love a challenge."  He finished tossing her a suggestive glance as they came to the front doors of the institute.  "So how about that tour?"

Rogue huffed.  "I'm going inside and if you follow me, which I know you are, don't expect me to protect you from anyone."

He followed her up the stone steps, examining and absently running a hand over a concrete lion at the beginning of the steps.  "Don worry Chere, Remy be able to protect himself."

"So were you able to tell them anything?"  Rogue asked as she opened the door and he entered behind her.  She hated to resort to continuing a conversation with him, but this was the most information she had gotten in a while.  Bobby, Jean, and even Scott were kept just as clueless in the past week as she was.  Warren was seen only when he flew in with some news about one of the artifacts.  And Dr. McCoy and the Professor had been cooped up in their lab and office ever since the trip to London.

"Bout what?"  He asked, removing his sunglasses and admiring a plaster bust the Professor had on display by the entrance to the living room.

"The first key." 

"Looked like it had some Egyptian script on it to me."  He dismissed as he flopped down onto the large sofa, arms behind his head.  "That's about all I could tell from the one picture de Professor had."

"So what does that mean?"  Rogue stopped when she realized he wasn't even looking at her anymore, just watching the doorway they had just entered through.  Just before she was about to give him a piece of her mind, she heard Kitty in the hallway jabbering away to someone.

Kitty rounded the corner into the room, and stared right into a lounging Gambit's eyes. 

"Hi."  He smiled and gave a casual wave.

"Eeek!"  Kitty screeched and jumped back through the door and out of sight.

"What's the matter?"  Rogue heard Scott ask, apparently still out in the hall.

"There… there… there… living room… sitting…"  Rogue couldn't help but smile at the way her roommate took surprises.

Finally out of curiosity, Scott stuck his head through the doorway.  "What are you doing here!?!"  He burst fully in the room, hand instantly going to the rim of his glasses.

Remy remained seated, and leaned his head over towards Rogue.  "Gambit sure be the popular one huh Chere?"

"Don't call me Chere!"  Rogue snapped.

"I asked you a question!"  Scott, apparently not happy at being ignored, commanded.

*Scott, Gambit is here at my request.*  The Professor's voice entered his mind, causing Cyclops to relax his posture and remove his hand from the rim of the glasses.  *I request your presence in the Danger Room Control.*  The Professor continued.

*But, don't you think someone should keep an eye on him?*  Scott projected back.

*He hasn't done anything wrong, besides I believe Rogue has the situation under control.*

Scott did not like that one bit.

~~~:*:~~~

She applied a fresh coat of lipstick and put her compact back in her purse.  He was still standing there, arms crossed, eyes hidden behind the glasses.  Did he even know how hot he looked doing that?

That was a stupid question, of course he did.  She was glad he had walked in with her boss's two-o-clock.  Interning here was torture.  Old farts in the morning, old farts in the evening, she might have even taken notice of the thirty something man that was currently behind her boss's closed door.  That was if he hadn't come in with him.

*Twenty?*  She asked herself.  It was odd; he seemed young and old at the same time.  Good face, good build under the black suit he wore, and not to mention filled out perfectly.  Tall but not too tall, and that hair.  She had never really gone for guys with long hair before; it just always seemed so dirty.  But his, looked more like silk than anything she had ever seen at NYU, and that color.  Or rather colors.

Mostly it was stark silver, in sharp contradiction to the black suit.  The strands of silver were pulled into a neat ponytail, all except for the dark brown bangs which hung around his face.  *Brown and silver.*"  She thought looking at the different colored bangs.  *Could he be one of those mutants?*  She dismissed the thought.  It didn't matter; if he was it was certainly working for him.

She batted her eyelashes and looked up at him, still standing by the doorway.

The secretary was staring at him again.

He waited patiently outside the office.  The secretary had offered him a seat a little over an hour ago, but he politely declined, he was to present a professional front at all times.  He doubted that sitting down would have resulted in any type of comment from his superior, but the impression he made standing by the doorway, gloved hands held at his side, eyes hidden by the sunglasses, was one many security personnel strived for.

The door to his side opened, and his superior stepped out followed closely by the man he was meeting.  The young man moved to the elevator and called it to their floor, quietly standing by as they finished the pleasantries of their conversation.

"I am glad you were able to locate such a rare artifact."  His superior said as they exited the private office.  "I trust it will be here soon?"  He turned and asked.  He was a little taller than the other man, his jet black hair, olive skin and full build in stark contrast to the short, balding, pale man he was speaking to.

"It has already left Brazil and should arrive tomorrow night if all goes as planned."  The short man said proudly.

"Excellent, I cannot wait to open the display at the museum." 

"You are going to put it on display?"  The collector questioned.

"Relax; I will do nothing that will call attention to it.  It will simply be listed as an ancient Roman spear and placed among normal ones of the same time period."  He placed a reassuring hand on the man's shoulder.  "My museum is the most secure facility I have, and security is my only concern.  Let the Hofsburg in Vienna continue to think they have the real thing."

"I apologize."  The collector calmed down.  "But this has been a secret my family has kept since the fall of Nazi Germany."

"And I thank every member of your family for doing so."   

"Do call us if you have any further needs."  The collector offered as the elevator reached their floor.

His superior nodded, shook the man's hand, and boarded the elevator.

"Omen."

"Yes?"  The young man responded.

"I will need you to pick up something from the airfield tomorrow night."  His superior instructed, running his hand through his hair.

Omen nodded.

~~~:*:~~~

"My team leader is on his way."  Xavier opened his eyes as he finished communicating with Scott.  "Are you sure this is a good idea?" 

A man shifted in the shadows, letting a ray of light fall over the helmet which sat on top of a control monitor.  "If we are going to work together our teams need to work together.  At least in your Danger Room it is a controlled environment where we can step in if things get out of hand."

"True, but I believe you know that at least one of my members has a serious quarrel with one of yours."  Xavier continued.

"It has been taken care of."  The man dismissed.  "Sabertooth will not be a problem, I needed someone to tend to some business abroad, so he will not be anywhere near Logan."

"Good."  Xavier looked towards the doorway that lead into the control room.  "Here he is, you had better let me suggest this."

"He is your student."

Scott entered the room.  "You wanted me professor?"

"Scott, how would you like to run a training exercise this afternoon?"  Xavier asked, turning his wheelchair to face the young team leader.

"Actually I was going to suggest that.  I think the team needs to get back in the habit of training together."  Scott beamed; grateful now that Rogue was better the primary team could continue training with each other.

"Excellent."  Scott jumped as an all to familiar voice sounded and Eric Magnus Lesher stepped out into the light of the room.  "I will gather my people as well."

~  So far so good?

bunny angel:  All shall be answered in time.

Vagabond:  Yes I finally started.  Its hard to write accents, you are either too vague or they wind up so complicated you cant read them.  So with the exception of the occasional dat, ya'll, and vhat, there wont be much accents in here.  As for Remy's broken English…  one can only wonder.  Anyway, if I get too carried away with them, let me know.

Wolviesfan:  Thanks for the correction on Magneto.  Yes, there will be more of that Wolvie / Rogue relationship.