Pyromane

(C'mon… You know what it means by now…)

DISCLAIMER: I don't own any bit of X-Men: Evo, especially Remy, Piotr, John, Pietro, Mags, or Monkey Man…I mean Mastermind. You know he looks like one, admit it.

AN: I'M SORRY! I realize it's been almost two months and I really feel bad enough to shoot myself. That probably even inspired my Halloween costume, I had a disturbingly realistic bullet hole in the middle of my forehead. If anyone read what I was going to be in my profile, that only changed because the makeup didn't come out well, and I only had the supplies for one shot. Oh well.

Now that I finally have this up, I'm happier again. I hope I didn't lose too many fans because of my lack of updating. It took me forever to find the notebook all this was written in. See my profile for details from before I wrote it. Anyhoo, I just want to express all my happiness for other things as well. Anyone who likes rock, I recommend Rammstein. They've finally kicked Disturbed out of the spot for favorite band. I already own two CDs, Mutter and Sehnsucht, and I just bough the concert video Live aus Berlin last night. All I can say is I loved it, however messed up it was. One of the guitarists looked like the Oompa Loompa from hell before he took his shirt off.

Ooh, and I get to go see the Dropkick Murphies this weekend, the Nov. 15 show along with the Bruins game. I'm psyched.

Got a villainous OC? Submit it to Zakonius's fic, On the Wrong Track. Mine got in, but it was an email not a review so people can't see it yet. I give Zak mucho credit for the mere concept. I kinda want to do an interactive fic, but there's so many and they all have the same people submitting horrible Mary Sues. Sigh.

Chapter 10

A Lesson on Why Explosions Are Bad

"What? We got training today?"

"Nyet," He shook his head fervently. "Hours ago."

I freeze.

Oh…shit.

"Magneto is furious. You have to come."

I jump off my motorcycle, having not even dismounted yet before Piotr came running in. He's already turned and is heading back down toward the training area, where I'm guessing my fate must lie, pale with a strange grimace on his face. He's not even running, rather walking as fast as humanly possible, and I'm struggling to match pace. An angry Mags is a thing o fear, so there is no way I intend to end up in front of Piotr. Still, I have to jog every few paces to keep up.

Now, People have to understand Magneto to understand why I'm now shamefully terrified. I don't know how old Magneto really is, but it's almost like he's having a midlife crisis with the horrible disposition of an old man. He's big on being commander. It's like he's on a perpetual power trip. He gets angry when disobeyed or kept waiting, and I know my indescretion has fallen under both by his perception, an when he's angry he goes nuts. He's always in a bad mood to begin with the second he steps foot on base. After that, it doesn't take a whole lot to break that last straw. He must've gone through something really bad in his past to give him the anti-world view and low tlerance he has today. With his glowing personality, I hope it's easy to understand why I'm scared.

Oh, and let's not forget that little arrest warrant he's got hanging over my head, the one he could turn me in for at any moment and land me in even deeper shit. But that's a story for another time, right now, I need to know something.

"Why didn't anyone think to call me?" I asked accusingly, "You knew I was out!" I don't mean to be blaming the messenger, but my anxiety isn't giving me the clearest of minds.

"I tried!" He stopped, looking angrily at me. "Eight times! You didn't respond, it didn't even ring. All is ever did was go to voice messaging."

I don't know how that could've happened. I alwys keep my cell phone on. And the battery couldn't be dead, I just charged it yesterday.

Charged? I didn't… I dig frantically through my pockets. The one I pulled the explosive from, I found my cards intact. Mon Dieu, Lady Luck is just smiling down on me isn't she? Does she want me dead? That definitely wasn't a deck I blew up hours ago.

I know I shouldn't make the boss any angier by making him wait, but I move toward the locker room first anyway. Changing into uniform would be a good delay of the inevitable. I apparantly don't get the choice. I only made it to the doorway before Piotr yanked me back out past it. He keeps me from running, for my best interest, with a loose hold on the back of my collar. The planning room is only a few feet ahead.

The title pretty much explains the purpose of the room. It's not some big table surrounded by cairs, as one might think. Rather, there's a large monitor/console with the boss's chair in front of it. For the rest of us, there are extra crates stacked throughout the room. It doubles as storage, to an extent.

Piotr enters the room ahead of the cringing being that is me. I try and cut the expression from my face, and I'm probably failing miserably. Trying to look innocent does nothing. Overcompensating and acting like I could care less will not help me either, only getting me into deeper trouble. With my best game face on, I trudge into the room behind the comrade. I'm met by everyone already in the room. Quicksilver has a smug, victorious expression on his face as he stands hiding behind his father. Pyro is sitting on one of the crates to Magneto's left, laughing silently at my handiwork that left the tips of Pietro's hair singed black. Even Mastermind, who's here even less often than Magneto, is sitting in the far corner of the room, eyes closed in quiet meditation. I notice looking around that Pietor uncrossed one arm from across his chest and pointed to his right. I follow the cue and look upon the inevitability: One very pissed Magneto, hovering ominously inches above the floor. And ge's glaring at me.

I squeeze my eyes shut, expecting something terrible--like having my blood ripped out through my eyelids--to happen at any moment. I'm glad no one can tell, I'm still wearing my sunglasses. I'm surprised that all I hear is the sound of feet landing with a quiet tap.

"Explain yourself." His voice is perfectly even.

My eyes shoot open, and I'm sure my eyebrows just became quite visible over the top rim of my glasses. Where are the threats? The yelling? The random metal bits orbiting around the room?

"Explain." He repeats, his voice still perfectly cool. It doesn't match the little bit of expression I can make out beyond the shrouding darkness of his helmet. This gives me a very, very bad feeling.

"Um, 'bout what…exactly?" I should have phrased that better, I want to know where I should start.

He narrows his eyes at me. Still, his voice hasn't changed.

"Perhaps you could tell me why you felt the need to blow up my son. Or maybe why you felt you had the right to ignore your job and training? And I wonder, what happened to your face?"

Merde, I forgot Magneto hasn't seen me since the fight, since a couple days before it, actually. Without the cowl covering my cheek, it's still plenty evident I've received a blow to the head.

"Oui, Pietro was just bein' a little…" How do I put it without insulting his lineage? I can't just say annoying.

"Homme was just a little grating on the nerves dis mornin', makign comments bout Remy he didn' appreciate. I only jus' been wakin' up, I ain't exactly a morning person."

His expression doesn't get any more angry, so I'll take it that he accepts my answer. That, or he just doesn't care to hear more.

"Bout de trainin', y'see, Gambit been out all day--" I hear a quiet obviously, probably from Pietro. I glare quickly at him, even though he can't tell hrough the glasses, before looking back at Magneto.

"I was jus walking along wit my hands in mah pockets. Remy sorta charged his phone witout even realizin it. Thought it was a deck of cards when he threw it. I couldn't have know bout de training."

He tilted his head forward slightly. I took this as a nod. I guess that was enough fo that topic. I didn't know what else to say about it anyway. I'm 95% sure the training wasn't on the schedule. This isn't so life-threatening as I thought it would be.

I don't know what to say about the fight. I have no idea if John's said anything about it yet. And he'll never get over it if I incriminate him along with me. I look to John, but he's still snickering at the oblivious Pietro. For once, the scorch marks aren't his fault.

Seeing that John will be no help, not that I expected much, I look to Piotr. He's the only one that might know. He's been paying attention to the mostly one-sided conversation between me and the boss. Plus, he more than likely bor witness to anyone's interaction with Magneto since he showed up to announce a surprise training session.

I look to Piotr expectantly. It takes him a moment to pick up on what I'm trying discreetly to convey. Too bad I'm not telepathic. After a moment, he shakes his head slowly to the negative.

"Right den," I mumble to myself before starting my explanations again. How to put it… "Gambit just got himself inta a bit of a fight."

"Bit?!" We all turned to John as he let out the word, sounding like he was choking on it. Obviously he was taken aback by my phrasing. Literally. He almost fell off the edge of he crate. I guess he took pride in his work more than I thought.

Pietro's looking at him accusingly, dying to get another one of us in trouble. The Aussie's smarter than that. He won't let himself fall into any trap, he can make things up in an instant to warp any possible blame from himself, and that's exactly what he did.

"Rem, you're face was black." What he said was true, and didn't give him away in the least. It just wasn't at all what he wanted to say. Or take credit for.

Magneto looked back to me once John's short outburst was over.

"Quicksivler, Pyro, Colossus… You are all dismissed."

Pietro was gone in an instant. John clasped my shoulder for a moment on the way out.

"You're pulp, mate." He laughed quietly so only I could hear. I glare at him as he leaves.

Piotr, being ever the good soul, is lingering in the room. He looks worried. On a look from Magneto, however, he follows the others out, leaving me basically alone with the boss.

To be continued… Quickly.

My writer's block is finally gone and I finally figured out what poor Remy's punishment will be. I'm sure I could have gotten some ideas, but you all just agreed on super-angry Mags, no specific ideas unless I wanted to repeat John's punishment mentioned chapters ago.

Special Thanks (and my most sincere apologies) To:

Dakr skie- Did you mean dark skie? Sorry for the wait.

Etwa- Yup, he's angry, but what shall he do? Cliffhangerish.

Snitter In Rivendell- You decided no Remy accent for Mutant Mace? Oh well, I didn't even realize you'd posted more until I sought it out and saw you had several more chapters since I'd last read it. And you have to wait till next chapter for what exactly Mags does.

Snoozing_dragon123- Woo! I have another fan!

King of the Worthless- I do intend on giving Piotr more time, but I've got two smaller arc to get out of the way first. I realize I'm neglecting him almost as much as the show.

Green Eyed Lilys Daughter- Yeah! Authentic Verification! Can I bug you for info about Australia?

Dark-English-Rose- I can't say anything without laughing. Remy has no hope…

Epona- thanks.

Dark Angel60- Sorry I made you feel weird.

Acadian Angel- I hope you came back to read more now that there is more.

Link and Luigi- Hmm… That would have been a fun way to surprise everyone, but I don't know if they'd appreciate the OOCness… Too bad.

Faith- I'm sorry I didn't email for help. We all could have had this sooner.

The Dark Vixen- I'm really, really sorry.

Snoozing-dragon123- I'm sorry, but at least you get more Nigel in a few chapters when we go back in time- fun flashback chapter(s) to come.

Faith- I hate midterms. And end of terms, I Just had one of those and a huge scary algebra ii test. I couldn't even finish it in time.

Thanks again and sorry to you all…