Hi guys!! Here's the next chap of boys will be boys, hope you like it!!!

Chapter: Southern Wrath and Sincerely, Jean

Remy could barely hold in a snicker. He tried, oh lord above did he try, but he could not keep a straight face. Who could blame him? Nobody had been able to stop laughing once they'd taken a good look at the poor guy.

Kurt had often wondered if he'd look good with blonde hair. Well, thanks to Kitty, now they knew. Actually, they now knew what he'd look like with his fur blonde. One well-placed water balloon and a squirt-gun fight later- --

His entire top half was yellow, bright yellow, and streaks from where he'd been hit by the water guns dotted the rest of his body. Gambit had no choice and started to laugh. It was a little difficult to do that considering the tape covering his mouth.

Kurt casually glanced up at him from the ground. He was sitting beneath a tree that had been put back in place a few days earlier by Jean. The repairs to the mansion were almost totally finished, only the plant aspect had yet to be restored. The German boy cocked an eyebrow at the Cajun. "Oh sure. Go on ahead and laugh at the only person brave enough to face my sister's wrath."

"Cmfon, maph, guhf mh kwn."

"One good reason why I should?"

"Mh gah ookhs nn chrum?"

Both Kurt's eyebrow's went up at that one. "Do I look like a girl? Not a good enough reason," he said, dusting himself off as he stood. Remy winced as the sunlight reflected off his neon yellow fur. Way too damn bright. "Try again."

Gambit tried to look cute and innocent. Cute, he managed. Innocent? Oh boy. "Ki uve oo."

Kurt shuddered all over. "Definitely not for that reason. But you really need to wash off that stuff, you're starting to smell."

"Oo oud o fin oru suk n'nah biht ah are."

The other boy nodded, consideringly. "Yes, I imagine so." He sighed. "Alright, I'm coming." He bamphed up to the tree branch and looked at the situation. From his jean back pocket he pulled out his adopted father's army knife. "Okay, are you held up by a rope or something?"

"Oo ien oo cn tel?!"

"Dude! There's enough feathers up here to sexually attract a duck! I can't see any of it!"

"Cuss fete e kown!!!"

"Well, the next time you get the bright idea to piss off a girl from the south of North America, I won't help next time!"

"Cfon, maph, uh ava peh!!"

Kurt's eyes widened at that. "Hurrying up, now."

(&%%#)

(Somewhere in the bowels of the mansion.)

snip, snip.

Sew, sew, prick---

"Ow! &&##&!"

"Jamie!! What are you doing in there?!"

"Um, nothing!!!"

"Then watch your mouth while you cuss out nothing, or you'll really hear some language!"

"Yes, Mr. Logan, sir!"

(sound of steps walking off)

sew, sew, sew, sew, sew, prick----

"Oww!!!!"

(&&%&$)

Scott gingerly rubbed the bridge of his nose as he walked down the hall to his room. Another day gone, and looking forward to a hellish night in the wrost looking room ever. To everyone's surprise, including Kitty and Rogue's, he could actually see the color of his walls. Something to do with the composition of his lenses or something like that. (The girls had figured that since all he could see was red, a little harmless fun with paint couldn't hurt. Turns out they were wrong.)

He rolled his neck on his shoulders trying to work the kinks out. It had been a long day in the Danger room, and he was both sore and exhausted. Logan had been really p.o.'ed about something and took it out on them. He wondered what it could be.

The teen opened the door to his room and suddenly stopped short. From what he could tell---

His entire room had been painted a different color. His best guess would be that someone had gone to a lot of trouble and painted it some kind of—pale amber? He looked around for any clues as to who'd done it, as all the furniture had been moved back into place and everything. The only thing he found was a large paper envelope on his bed.

Scott sat on the side of the bed and opened it, wary of another inventive revenge, when his eyes went wide in surprise. He pulled out a slip of paper, "Oh man. No way!!! That concert was sold out weeks ago!" He paused to examine them further and saw the strings attached to it---"Oh my god, they're backstage passes!! Holy shit!" He automatically covered his mouth in reflexive surprise, but let go a second later to root through the packet some more. "Ah, man, backstage passes to Velvet Revolver! I owe somebody so big for this one---(gasp!)"

He took out a small envelope, this one with a thirty dollar gift certificate to Circuit City. Another grab pulled out dinner reservations at his fav dinner spot, a place he'd taken Tarren to for some dance or something like that. He'd loved Keller's instantly and had thought to take Jean there someday.

A thought struck him as he pulled out the last piece to the packet. Could it be Jean who sent this? Only Jean really had the kind of money it would take to pull something like backstage passes off. As he opened the folded paper, his jaw dropped in shock. In it was a note from Jean.

'Dear Scott,

I'm sorry that I acted like I did. Like I have been! It was really childish of me, but I just felt so hurt that you would spy on me like that. It felt like I couldn't trust you at all, and some of the things I said, I really didn't want you to hear until I was ready to say them.

Please say you forgive me. I hope you like the tickets, I bet Tarren would love to meet the band.

Sincerely, Jean'

Scott stood up from the bed. He might be tired, but he had one more place to visit that night.

(&$%#)

Tabby nodded as she left the Professor's office, closing the door thoughtfully behind her. She walked down the main stairs and the foyer and out into the bright sunshine of the late afternoon. The blonde stuck her hands in her pockets as she slowly ambled down the driveway to the main road. A horn blaring made her look up. She smiled at Toad, who was sitting in the jeep and trying to look as cool as possible.

"Need a lift, baby-cakes?"

"You bet your fur, frog-boy," she smirked as she jumped into the car. "C'mon, lets blow this joint."

"Literally, doll?"

"Maybe later. Too tired to care right now." Todd nodded in understanding and started to tell her about how boring it had been without her for the last five days. Tabby didn't pay too much attention. She was more concerned with what the professor had asked of her. And it worried her, big time.

The older man had wanted her to watch Lance for him. He said that lance's powers had been going off kilter (pardon the pun) lately, and he suspected that it was for a very bad reason. If Lance lost control in a public area, he could not only expose mutants to moer bad publicity, he could seriously harm others and maybe even himself. The teacher was worried that Lance was doing some kind of narcotic.

That scared the bejeezus out of Boom Boom. She knew what happened when mutants just lost their tempers. What could happen if one of them was high while doing that? And if Lance was on something, he was way, way too dangerous for her to handle. He's need help from the only place that could withstand the damage of him going into withdrawl, if he was on anything.

And Tabby was going to find out what was going on with Avalanche.

(&$%%#)

What can I say, Lance acting all abusive bothered me, so I had to have a reason for it.

Thanks for your patience guys, and I hope you like where I'm taking this.

Translations for the tied up Remy:

C'mon, man, get me down.

My good looks and charm?

I wuv you.

You would too if you were stuck in a pit of tar!

You can't tell?!

Just get me down!!

C'mon man, I have to pee!

(Ha, ha! Poor guy, I'm so cruel to him. Hee!)

Review responses!!!

Nothing but love for my awesome beta redangelwings!

Minion: sorry hon, I didn't know. I'll go fix it soon.

MoonlightPheonix3 and the Uncanny R-man: glad you guys liked it!

DemonRogue13: thanks for reviewing!

Fireinu: thanks for your understanding, I'm glad my power out was in early summer. I almost fried trying to sleep in my room, no air conditioning.

Peace215: he didn't quite fry, but I thought that Rouge is a traditional southern girl. (as much as any goth is a natively cultured anything, no offence implied) she might prefer tar and feathering as a still unique and fun technique. Mostly because it makes the victim sticky and mildly ill from skin poisoning.

Agent-G: hope I answered your question.

Ivan Alias: I can't wait to read some of your stories. I hope that my opinion can help your muse as you helped mine!

Thanks to everyone who reviewed!!!

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