Rogue stormed into the mall once again, Remy following at her heels. Well, Remy in her heels, sort of at his own heels.

"Dis is what ya wear clubbin'?" he asked, motioning to his outfit.

"Yes! Leave me alone!"

"Ya go clubbin'?"

"When Ah wanna dance, Ah dance. Got a problem with that?" she said, rounding on Remy, preparing to strangle him if she could reach his neck.

"Ya dance?" Remy asked, honestly befuddled and shocked.

"Whatta ya think Ah do with all mah time!?! Sit in the library in the dark drinkin' blood an' readin' Edgar Allen Poe?!?" Rogue yelled, drawing interested and frightened glances from other shoppers.

"An' listen t' Marilyn Manson, cursin' de world, yes!" Remy agreed.

Rogue stopped walking and got very quiet. Not peaceful, I-forgive-your-ignorance quiet. More like post-flash/pre-rumbling wave of nuclear destruction quiet. "Ya know the good thing about cross dressin'?" she asked. "Ya shoes are reeeal easy ta run in."

With his usual speed, Remy weighed the odds. It didn't look very good. Could he talk his way out of this?

"Ya gotta admit, cherie, I doan see ya loosen up enough t' dance ever," he said, his voice absolutely dripping with charm. [Doan' attack me. I cain' move in dese damn heels.]

"So that automatically means Ah got no life?" she snapped.

"If ya doan act like ya have a life outside o' de Institute, what else'm I supposed t' t'ink?"

"How 'bout ya think outside the box an' stop bein' so damn stereotypical!" Rogue yelled at him before turning on her- well, his heel, technically, and marching away.

Remy decided not to push his luck with her anymore for a little while. (See? He's not a complete idiot.) He wandered around until- hey! Hot Topic! Gothic headquarters. It's good to get into the mind of your prey. So he went into the store for a little research.

He looked at the goth girl behind the counter as she rang up his assortment of new earrings.

"Ya got clubs? I mean, got'ic dance clubs?"

The young woman lifted a pierced eyebrow at him questioningly. "Normally I love transvestites, but-"

"Non," Remy shook his head. "'M not askin' ya out, not dat ya not very pretty. Jus' tell me 'bouttcherself, chere. I'd like t' get t' know what a purist goth does in 'er free time."

"'Purist goth?'" Tawnie asked.

"Yeah," Remy grinned as seductively as possible in his current situation.

"Well," she sighed, considering. "Yes, we have clubs, and no, we don't just sit around and glare at each other the whole time. We dance, we have fun, we date; all the usual stuff." She paused for a minute and scanned Remy's outfit. "Wait a second. Do you know a girl who goes by Rogue?"

"Yup."

"I thought I'd seen that outfit before," Tawnie nodded, finally noticing that there was a person in line behind Remy who was getting impatient. "Step over here and talk," she directed. While she rang up the next few customers she told Remy everything she knew.

Kitty, Amara, Jubes, Rahne, and Roberto had gone ahead to the food court ahead of Jean, who had stopped in the sporting goods store to look at soccer equipment. Sam saw then walk in and groaned, burying his face in his hands. Bobby looked at him, then over his shoulder to see the group of X-students walking by, and made a mental note to grill Kitty for information. Whatever Sam's problem was, it was big. (!!pun alert!! !!pun alert!!)

Roberto glanced over and saw Sam hiding and looking unhappy. He felt for him, really he did. The solar powered Brazilian almost went over to try and cheer him up, but decided against it when he saw Bobby at the table, and Tabitha was headed in that direction. The girls he was with noticed this and traded significant looks with each other.

They conferred for a minute and decided on Chic-fil-a for lunch. After they got their food, they grabbed a table near Sam'n'company, just to tease the cross-dressed boys. Roberto balked the entire way to the table and refused to look the blond in the eye once he sat down. Of course, Sam wasn't exactly seeking eye contact as it was.

Rogue had stalked her way outside and joined the smokers grabbing a butt between stores. She plopped down on the curb, which was not exactly the most comfortable place in the world, and she hated the smell of cigarette smoke, but she really wasn't in the mood to think about it too much. She fumed for a while in silence before realizing that it would probably be more therapeutic to take her anger out on something that had done her no harm (in true American fashion), so she dug in her Hot Topic bag for the piercing bear and a few more pieces of body jewlery.

When Rogue came back inside she was still only slightly cooled down, and headed for Gloria Jean's for an iced coffee. She'd barely gotten twelve steps when she came across the younger girls not-so-subtly stalking Sam. Thank goodness, Roberto had managed to somehow escape and was nowhere to be seen. At the back of the group, however, Bobby was interrogating Kitty, and she was grudgingly spilling the beans.

Rogue stalked over and attacked the front of the group first.

"Leave the po' boy alone!" she warned Amara and Rahne. "D'you have any idea how annoyin' it is when y'all do shit like this? Y'all're lucky some o' us haven' done som'n' violent to ya in ya sleep. Leave. Sam. ALONE. An' you," she pointed to Bobby, heading for the back of the group, "come with me."

Iceman shot his gaze from Rogue to Sam to Kitty, and back again, not knowing what to do first. But, with the info he'd just gotten, he had to make at least one comment before going with Rogue. "Alright, I'm coming. Hey Sammy!"

"NOW!" Rogue barked. She grabbed him by the throat and frog-walked him into Spencer's. "Listen up, icesicle-"

"You're channeling Wolverine, aren't you?" Bobby asked.

Rogue growled in a very good imitation of him. "Not at the moment, but if ya prefer, Ah c'n call 'im up so ya c'n deal with him instead o' me."

Bobby gulped and shook his head.

"Ah didn' think so. Now, pay attention. You ain't gonna be tellin' nobody about what Kitty told ya. Ya ain't gonna be teasin' Sam an' Roberto about this. If ya hear anybody at the Institute talkin' 'bout 'em, you tell 'em Ah said Ah'll be dealin' with 'em, cuz if Ah hear 'em before you stop 'em, Ah'll be comin' aftah you, too. Got that?"

Bobby nodded.

"Peachy," Rogue smirked. "Now run along like a good little cross-dressah an' go visit one o' the girly stores."

"Yes, ma'am," Bobby said, sidling away.

After he had skittered out of her path, Rogue congratulated herself on a job well done, and a lot of steam blown off. Now in a much better mood, she perused the merchandise of Spencer's. She was looking into getting one of the neon lights to put in her room to annoy Kitty with.