A/N: I don't remember what I promised would come in this chapter. Umm, someone mentioned Monet - she'll be back, I didn't forget her. Also planned are Kitty and Jono. This chap has a big flashback with Paige.

            Remy hid behind the sunglasses as he watched the gate swarm with people. The cop in the corner was looking at him suspiciously and the teen across the room was doing her damndest to make eye contact. So much for a low profile. He probably should have sent Marie. He hadn't seen Sam in ages, though, and he was dying for a familiar face.

            "Rem?" The Kentucky accent was hard to miss. So was the towering blonde that seemed to appear out of nowhere.

            "Sam! Y' might want t' keep y' distance. Got a nasty bug," Remy said quickly, backing away. Sam stopped short. There was something…strange about Remy.

            "There's something different," he started, looking at his thin frame and scruffy appearance. No, that was right.

            Remy lowered his sunglasses and looked up at Sam. "Like I said, t'ere's a nasty bug goin' around."

            Sam seemed properly impressed, but then tossed him a duffle bag and said, "Lay off the accent. It's worse than mine."

            "Why didn't Paige come?" Remy asked as they sipped mocha lattes. He was studying the base in Seattle intently.

            "She's pregnant." Remy sputtered, sending coffee across the table. Sam carefully blotted the plans dry, thoroughly enjoying Remy's surprise. "Once Ah realized that ya needed more than a courier, Ah made her stay home."

            "Who's the father? Why didn't he make her stay home?"

            "Ya wouldn't know the guy. He's away on business at the moment, but should be home for the birth."

            "She's too young." Remy frowned.

            "She's five years older than you."

            "And you don't see me getting pregnant, do you?"

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            "We need to get out of here," Jean said simply. Days of staring at the walls was driving her insane. There are only so many games of tic-tac-toe and hangman you can play before words stop meaning anything.

            "I know," Scott said. He was counting the number of beats of his heart. Before Jean interrupted him, he was at 36,232. He began again.

            "Any ideas?"

            "A few."

            "Anything that will keep us from getting caught five minutes from the escape?"

            "No." Jean closed her eyes. She liked the man, but there were times she wanted to throttle him.

            "Scott?"

            "Yes, Jean."

            "Figure it out." Scott stopped counting again to glance at Jean. She was glowering at him from the corner. He smiled at her irritation, and dragged his thoughts to escape plan #5. He was getting pretty tired of counting anyway.

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            Marie was staring at the computer, the tip of her tongue sticking out the side of her mouth.

            unTouchable1: Anything weird yet?

            LBish3000: No. Do you really think anything's going to happen?

            unTouchable1: I dunno. It could.

            LBish3000: I want to be invisible. Or I wanna fly.

            unTouchable1: Who knows…maybe nothing will happen.

            LBish3000: Just because you haven't sprouted wings or started glowing purple                                  isn't necessarily a bad thing.

            unTouchable1: I know. I don't know what to wish for…

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            "So we have you and Marie's friend, Bishop," Remy said, trying to come up with a strategy.

            "Monet will come," Sam said, tapping the end of the pencil against his cheek. He was dead tired. Ever since he'd stepped off the plane, Remy had run him around the city. Not that he was complaining or anything. Sleep wasn't really necessary…

            "I think I can get Jono to help," Remy mused. How many people would they need?

            "That gives us six." He couldn't stop the yawn.

            "With four bases to cover. I'd like at least two more people." Remy looked over at Sam, who looked like he was barely conscious. "You better get some rest. I'll be back in ten hours." He gathered his coat and organized the loose papers. "And Sam, thanks."

            Sam shook his head. It was the least he could do.

-----------Three years ago (year before Running…I think)---------

            Paige Guthrie was scared. She didn't know what to do. She considered going home sick, but she couldn't afford to leave work. Plus, that wouldn't exactly solve her problem. She peeked out the window at the alley across the street. They were still there.

            Remy was dead tired. He was tired of running. Tired of thinking. Jean was just as worn down. And now they were in Kentucky. What the fuck were they going to do?

            "Two?" Paige asked, motioning them to an empty table. They were kids. Looked like poor kids. She went through the motions mechanically.

            "Jeannie, we have exactly seven dollars and thirty-two cents left," Remy mumbled softly. She wrinkled her nose.

            "We'll split the soup and salad." Paige took a closer look at them. Not from the area. Too thin. She could see the hunger in their faces.

            "That'll be up in a minute." She gave them each a smile, and then hurried over to the next table.

            Remy and Jean just sat there. They couldn't even speak. The smells at the diner were making their stomachs flip-flop inside.

            "She's worried," Remy announced, glancing at the waitress.

            "Why?"

            "I dunno. I'm not a bloody mind reader. Probably worried that we're not going to pay." Jean gave him a ghost of a smile. She absently started chewing on the lemon in her water.

            "You could just slip your accent on and charm her out of the check."

            Remy grinned. "I know. People up this way aren't exactly rich though."

            Paige wanted to call her brother to come get her, but immediately dismissed the thought. Sam needed to work in the mines, just as she needed to work in the diner. Everything would be okay. Momma always said that God provides whatever you need.

            She kept staring across the street. Jean tried to follow her path of vision and saw the men across the street. They looked pretty disreputable.  Jean was pretty sure she found their waitress' problem. And she was pretty sure Remy was going to rush in like a freakin' knight in shining ass armor. She'd tell him after lunch.

            "Here ya'll are." Paige placed two big bowls of soup, two turkey sandwiches, and some potato salad in front of them.

            "We didn't…"

            "Sure ya did. Here's your check." Remy snatched the paper from Jean's hand as she watched Paige walk away open-mouthed. The check had one soup/salad meal for $5.75. Well, hell.

            "How was everything?" Paige smiled to herself. From the looks of things, they had enjoyed themselves immensely.

            "Wonderful. And thank you for…you know," Jean said, unable to quite meet her eye. Paige leaned down and gave the girl a hug.

            "We've all been there. Ya'll have a nice day now."

            Remy watched them from the corner of his eye. They hadn't moved and they were still staring at the diner. Paige was standing at the door, her sweater buttoned, her purse clutched tightly against her body. Four on one. He didn't really like the odds. He hoped Jean would hurry.

            "Please ma'am, allow me t' walk y' home." Remy bowed slightly, offering his arm. Paige looked at him as if he had three heads. "I know I'm not much of a shield, but it's a shot."

            "This ain't your problem, hon."

            "Like y' said. We've all been t'ere. Please allow me." The men were already beginning to come forward to get their prey. "Why didn' y' call the cops?"

            "The tall one is the sheriff's son." Jean ran up, out of breath. She stopped a block away, but Remy saw her nod. He felt the vice around his chest began to loosen.

            "Well, why don' y' go wit' Jeannie, and y'r brother and I will take care of t'ings." Remy smiled as he watched Sam fly around the corner and lay into one of the thugs, anger thundering across his face. Remy quickly joined the fray, calling two of the thugs off Sam's back.

            Sam was surprised when the teen began to help him, but he was too busy to be bothered with it. He grunted with satisfaction as his fist met the flesh of Tom's midsection. The tub fell to the ground, sending up a cloud of dust. He was usually non-violent, but heaven help anyone who wanted to cross his family. Sam gave him a kick in the ribs.

            Remy moved fluidly, surprising the men with his moves. Although the two men easily outweighed Remy, he seemed to find the gaps to hit them where it hurt. Being fundamentally stupid, the men charged in without thinking. Remy quickly had the upper hand as they collided. The fight was over in a matter of minutes.

            Sam looked in disgust at the bodies littering the ground. Someone got blood on his jacket. Momma was going to have a fit.

            "Sam!" Paige flew at him. He wrapped his arms around her even as he began to scold.

            "Why didn't you call me instead of having your friend come get me? Let's go home." Sam turned to Remy and Jean, who were just beginning to leave. "Hey! Why don't you two come home with us?"

            "No, we got-." Remy turned to glare at Jean as she elbowed him in the ribs. He faltered under her stare, though. "Uh, yeah. T'anks."

            "Sam Guthrie."

            "Remy LeBeau. An' t'is is my sister Jean."

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            Remy climbed in through the window. Marie shook her head as she listened to the water running in the next room. The door she had been watching just stood there, mocking her. Sighing, she went up to talk to him.

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            "Did you come up with anything?" Jean asked, her face pressed against his neck. Scott stroked his hand through the long strands.

            "Yes. I know exactly how we're going to get out."

            Jean sat up abruptly, causing Scott's hand to rip through a tangle. She grimaced at the pain. "How?"

            "We're going to wait for your brother. We're going to get a few minutes at a computer, send him a message to hurry his ass, and then wait."

            Jean cocked her head to the side. "That just may work."

            "I know. Now lay down and be quiet."

            Jean tugged on his hair and lay back down.

----------------------------

            Xavier decided to make a few calls. Surely they would overlook his little mistake once he told them what he knew, what he was! And even if they weren't ready to forgive him, well, he could fix that. He dialed up Warren's number by heart.

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A/N: Well, there's a taste. I was going to answer questions in this chap, but nobody had any (text-wise). I could not think of an alias for Bishop, so help is needed. If I get something good, I'll go back and change it (with credit to whomever, of course). So, please review, tell what you like, don't like, wanna see. How's the pace? Next chapter: Marie. Lots of Marie.

*I apologize for the spacing. I spent 10 minutes trying to get it right before giving up. Stupid MS Word.