War of the Triangles

Disclaimer: I claim no ownership of X-Men.

Summary: (ONE SHOT)(ROMY)(Bobbycentric) It isn't Bobby's fault this time! Really! Okay, so it is. But he deserved it. Really, Professor! This isn't about getting back at Rogue. Seriously!

--

This. Is. It.

The last straw. The absolute last.

The icecube is going to get it. Bad.

--

"BOBBYYYYYY!"

Bobby smiles slightly and takes another bite of a golden Twinkie.

"AH—WILL—KILL—YOU!"

If you can find me, Bobby thinks, and swallows, taking a napkin from the pre-packaged stack next to him and wiping his mouth.

The door to the cabinet swings open abruptly and Bobby cringes for three reasons, all the while trying not to look like a frightened rabbit.

One: The sudden light is blinding. His eyes hurt dully as they try to adjust and he blinks multiple times.

Two: His Twinkie has fallen into his lap. Nevermind the fact that there is now Twinkie filling all over his jeans—the Twinkie is ruined. Ruined, dammit!

Three: …Er…

Marie stands—no, make that looms—before him like some kind of ominous threat. Behind her is an equally furious Remy, cards in hand and eyes blazing with the promise of death.

The man looks absolutely ridiculous.

Bobby stifles a snicker.

"It ain't funny, Bobby Drake!" his ex-girlfriend shrieks. "What the hell did you do?"

Bobby thinks that is obvious. He'd put dye into Gambit's conditioner (not that he'd admit it, of course). Duuuh. Come on. He should have been expecting it. It's the oldest damn trick in the book.

The Cajun is way too obsessed with his hair, anyway.

"It—It's pink, you—"

"It looks lovely on you," Bobby says between his teeth, trying not to laugh. Well. At least not laugh much.

Remy lets out a strangled noise.

"YOU—WILL—DIE!" the mutant roars, the cards between his fingers at the ready.

Bobby shrinks back, arms protectively encircling the economy-sized box of Twinkies.

"I didn't do it! Really!" Bobby defends himself. No one is terribly convinced.

"Rogue, lemme kill 'im!"

"Shut up, Remy, Ah can deal with this—"

"Rogue—!"

"REMY!"

Bobby makes his escape.

--

"C'mon, let me in!"

"No! You've got, like, Rogue and Remy chasing after you! Are you crazy?"

"No!"

"Do you think, like, I'm crazy? Guilt by association, you moron!"

"KITTY!" Bobby yells desperately at her through the door.

Then, as he moves on to the next room: "JUBES!"

--

Where is he, where is that little bastard?

"KITTY!" they hear someone yell.

And it sounds an awful lot like Bobby.

--

"Kitty, where'd he go?"

"Hey, Rogue. Ooh, Remy, like, nice hair. Where'd you, like, get the dye?"

"Kitty. Where. Is. Bobby." It isn't even a question. Kitty gives a roll of her eyes. Rogue feels like throttling her.

"Oh, like I would know! He came to me, like, begging, but, I mean, do you think I'm dumb enough to, like, let him in? I mean, come—"

Rogue gives a frustrated growl and storms off, Remy following her, equally livid.

"JUBILEE!"

"Yeah?"

Rogue opens the door.

"Did Bobby come round here?"

Jubilation Lee shrugs before looking back at the magazine she had been reading.

"Nope. Tell you when I see him."

Rogue gives an unintelligible growl and slams the door shut.

"Hey, Bobby, it's safe now."

"So I heard," comes the muffled reply as the Iceman steps out of the overstuffed closet.

"Payment, please."

Bobby grumbles, but fishes the hair dye out of his pocket.

"Thank you. Oh, Scott'll really hate this one!"

Been there, done that, Bobby wants to say, but doesn't, because Rogue suddenly bursts into the room again.

"AH KNEW IT!" she shrieks, and, leaping forward, latches onto her ex-boyfriend's ear, dragging him down the hall.

"Rogue, let me explain! It isn't me!"

"Shut UP, Bobby! Gag him, Remy."

"Remy! No, pleasemmph—"

--

"Robert…"

"Professor, I didn't—" Iceman pauses, remembering that this is a telepath he is talking to. "Okay, I did."

"AH KNEW IT!"

"DIE, BOY, DIE!"

"PROFESSOOOOORRRRRR!"

There is an explosion, and a shriek, and a yell, and the sound of someone (huh, someone) icing up, and the sound of someone slipping on ice and—

Professor X sighs.

These triangles are getting way out of hand.

--

Author's Notes

FINALLY, yes, I know. To anyone who's been following the Triangles Series, this should, in fact, be the end, as late as it is. But I've written a few more. Hee.

To anyone who doesn't know of the Triangles Series, here's what's up so far, in chronological order: Triangles; Sulky Blue Twinkies; Belonging, Happy, Together; and War of the Triangles. The next two are Plot, Fail, Blow Up and In Solving Polygons.

So. Please review, or flame, or something to know that someone out there is reading what I wrote.

love, fluorescent