I would like to thank you for the reviews I've gotten... Glad to see that I'm doing a half decent job with this.
Anyways, I've gotten a complaint or two, about Remy walking to school instead of riding his motorcycle, and all I have to say, is... Patience, good people.
Remy riding a bike is my thing as well. Wouldn't dream of writing this without him having a motorcycle. It is all part of my eveel plot!

To be quite honest, Magneto is barely even in this as a villan. A slight taste of what I have to come is in this chapter. Enjoy!

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All three Acolytes were relieved to find they basically had the same schedules. Most hours, they would be together in class.
Boy, would the teachers be in for on, hell of a ride.

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"What the hell'd Ah do to the damn science teacher? Ah did mah work, and he just goddamn exploded!"
".. John, y'started y'desk on fire, usin' de bunson burner..."
".. It happens..."

Piotr laughed at his friends 'battle of wits' as they sat down to lunch, looking down at the cafeteria tray, a slightly disgusted look set over his gentle features. He poked at the 'food' with his fork, looking up to John and Remy.
".. Vhat vas zis again?"
"Dunno... Meatloaf?"
"Doubtful," Remy replied, pushing his tray away from him with a soft sigh.

John stared down at the plate, finally taking a bit with his fork, and bringing it to his lips.
".. You're not..?"
"Yeah, Ah am... Ah'm starvin'!" he replied to the grimacing Russing beside him, turning back to the fork. Closing his eyes, he slowly brought it to his lips, and...

"Look over dere!" Remy said suddenly, patting John on the back with force. The Aussie gagged, dropping his fork. He glared up at Remy, smacking him on the back of the head.
"Don't do that!" Remy didn't seem to hear him, nor notice the slap he had just received... Instead, his complete attention was a few feet away from their table.

There, the Rogue sat, alone. A book lay open in front of her, gloved fingers toying with the streaks of white in her dark, chestnut tinted hair.
Remy slowly lifted himself, fixing the shades on the bridge of nose, and working a slight grin on his lips.
".. I'm goin' in..."
"And Ah'm gonna need some popcorn," John said, rather ammused as he leaned forward to watch closer.

Rogue's eyes lay intently into the pages of the book, reading the words slowly and with interest, shifting in her seat slowly. A slight bit of movement caught her eye, however, causing her to look up at the figure standing before her... She all but drooled on the spot.
The Cajun one stood there, a form fitting, navy blue shirt covering his torso, the usual, baggy, faded brown trenchcoat resting over his shoulders loosely.

His shirt tucked into the few visible centimeters of the boxer shorts he wore, a belt wrapping around his waist to hold his faded black cargo pants securely.
She looked up, hoping to see the firey red demon eyes that had transfixed her on their last meeting...

Damn. Concealed by the sunglasses.
"Can Ah help you?" she stated coldly, half pretending not to notice him.
".. Sweet Sout'ern accent, p'tite," he said, smirking softly. "Seems a shame, Sout'ern belle like you, sittin' all 'lone..." She stared at him for a few seconds.
".. Ah plan to keep t'myself, thank y'," she replied, glaring as she lifted herself from her seat, closing her book as she headed outside.

Remy simply stared at the spot where she had been sitting, slowly turning to Piotr and John.
John merely grinned, making a thumbs down sign as Remy approached.
"Put down, mate," he said, eyes lingering on the Cajun as he walked to his side.
".. Hmm... Pu' down indeed," he said quietly, a card slipping down from the sleeve of his trenchcoat, glowing light pink in his hand. He slipped it into John's back pocket, proceeding to walk away as fast as possible, but still, casually.

The next sound from inside was quite obvious, non?
Remy grinned widely at the sound, shaking his head, and looking forward, hoping to find her.
She sat under a tree, rather secluded from anyone's view... Perfect for her. Her knees were bent to her chest, where her book lay open in front of her once more.
Fiddling with a button on his trenchcoat, Remy slowly walked forward, and smiled to her softly, quirking a brow from behind the shades.

She looked up, with a sigh of slight irritation.
"Can'tcha just leave me alone, creole?" His expression hardened slightly, but, he nodded his head, smile still tugging at his lips.
"Alrigh', chere... Y'make y'point. Remy leave y'be..." He stepped past her, and towards the parking lot in front of the school, walking as calmly as usual.

Rogue snorted, and looked back down towards her book... It was almost immpossible to ignore the pang of guilt clawing at her stomach feircely...
Guilt... When had that been a word in her vocabulary?
With a sigh, and a roll of her emerald green eyes, Rogue pushed herself to her feet, leaving the book at the trunk of the tree, and walked forward, hoping to find him to apologize.

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Remy sighed in spite of himself, running a hand through his hair. He removed the shades from the bridge of his nose, and began to walk back towards the Acolyte house, quirking a brow at himself, and shaking his head.
".. Should be at school, shouldn't we?" a rather dark voice filled his ears.
Remy turned quickly, another card slipping from his sleeve and into his hand, glowing hot with pink. The figure before him chuckled.

He was rather tall, and muscular, chestnut hair pulled back into a ponytail. Sideburns led down into a beard, a goatee wrapping around his thin lips. Dark brown eyes stared at Gambit in ammusement, quirking a brow slowly.
The man was dressed in a dark grey business suit, and leaning over a motorcycle...

Mon dieu... A gorgeous motorcycle...
The tank was painted candy-apple red, plue and purple flames overlapping them. The Harley Davidson logo rested near the front, plated in gold, and silver, the eagle seeming to screech into his very ears.
There wasn't a speck of dirt on the tank... On the fender, on the bars, on the tires, even. Brand new.

".. Nice bike," Remy muttered, staying where he was. The man chuckled.
"How would you like to keep it?" That thought made his eyes bulge, and his breathing quicken... That ended quickly, however. ".. What de catch, ol' man?"
"Nothing, really... I'm just a man, looking to help fellow man," he said, standing up straight, and walking over. "All I ask in turn, is that when you ask me of a favor... You return it. This, is just," he paused. ".. A freebie."

Remy snorted.
".. A freebie..." He thought this over. ".. Why should I help you?" He chuckled once more, deeper, eyes narrowing slowly.
".. Because I happen to know of a pretty femme I could help you get..." Remy gulped, closing his eyes...
Should he..?
He groaned quietly in defeat, looking up at the man, and noding his head, holding his hand out. He grinned.
".. Very good, very good..."

He pulled a key from the pocket of his suit, handing it to Remy.
".. A deal's a deal," he stated. Remy accenpted the key greatfully, watching as the man turned to walk off.
".. Hol' up!" he said. The man stopped. "What's y'name, mon ami?" He smiled softly, turning to face him.
".. Professor Esexx," he said, turning to continue walking, and dissapear soon. Remy cocked his head to the side slowly, but shrugged his shoulders, and walked to the motorcycle...

His, motorcycle.
".. Gambit? Hold up, Swamp Rat," he heard the sensual Southern drawl behind him. A shudder ran down his spine. He turned slowly to look at Rogue, quirking a brow, and turning back again, climbing on the bike.
"Gambit, Ah just wanted... Where're y'goin'?"
".. I'm ditchin'... Dis school bites," he said, revving the engine. "Care ta join me?"

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Author's Note:

Muahaha! o.O; Sorry...
Well, there ya have it, all Remy-motorcycle obsessees, my third chapter! Yes... A cliffhanger... Sorta...
Thank for readin' this far, and, I'll have the next chapter up soon!
Review, please!