Nine to Five

by Goldylokz

Rogue is faced with an antimutant mob & somehow winds up getting a job at a music store. And with Magneto out of town, Bayville gets painted red and Rogue has some frequent visitors at the store. Romy, Jonda with a hint of Kiotr.

19. So, What's the Verdict?

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I am to a spiritual level beyond material possessions. Therefore, I must borrow everyone else's. Except the humans Sly, Ania (inspired by ishandahalf), Jamal, Ashley, and Laura "Warren".

A/N: Only two months this time! That's a 900% improvement!

---

thoughts

telepathy

---

NINE TO FIVE: Chapter Nineteen: So, What's the Verdict?

BEEP, BEEP, BEEP, her alarm clock yelled at her to get up. A pale hand emerged from under the covers to beat some sense into it. The clock silenced. The owner of the hand groaned and turned over.

"Rogue, you've hit that thing four times already, if you don't get up now you'll totally be late for work," the early bird Kitty Pryde informed her roommate. There was a muffled response from the pillow. "What did you say? I couldn't hear you with your mouth, like, full of cotton."

"Ah said, 'what do ya care?'" came a very tired and articulate response from the pillow person.

Kitty stopped tossing clothes from her closet and came to sit down at the end of Rogue's bed. She put her hand on the lump. "I'm your friend and roommate, Rogue. Of course I care."

Rogue turned over onto her back and threw her comforter off. She squinted, then rubbed her right eye and yawned. "Fine, fine, ya goody-goody two-shoes. I'll get up." She lifted herself to her elbows for five seconds. Then she collapsed back down on the bed. "In a minute." The lethargic goth turned onto her side and pulled her comforter back over with her. Only her face peeked out.

"Whatever/" Kitty sighed and went back to her clothes.

Rogue watched her with curiosity as she woke up. "What are ya doin'?"

"Getting dressed, obviously." Kitty held a shirt up to her chest, made a face, then tossed it back into her closet.

"Fo' what? There a Fashion Club meetin' at Quinn's house (1)?" the covers guessed.

"No," Kitty said in a disdained manner. "For your information, I'm going to the library to work on an art history project."

"Do they have some new librarian eye candy fo' ya?" Rogue inquired.

"Why can't I just want to look good, for the sake of looking good?" Kitty asked in frustrated tone.

"'Cause ya ain' dressing justa look good," Rogue gave up on her five extra minutes and sat upright. The floor was cold on her bare feet. "You are dressing to impress. Who is he?" Rogue could not be fooled.

"No one!" Kitty unconvincingly declared. She finally found a suitable shirt and tossed it on her bed. "I'm going to the library to work on my art history. Piotr might stop by to help me out and we talked about maybe grabbing a bite to eat. That's it."

"Peter," Rogue teased as she got up to shuffle though her pile of clean clothes on the floor. Or is this the dirty pile? Rogue picked up a shirt to smell.

"What do you mean 'Peter?'" the Chicago native imitated Rogue's tone of voice as best she could.

"Ya are dressin' up ta look good for Peter." Rogue added, "Ta make him drool."

"I am not," Kitty childishly argued. Rogue just looked her in the eye and smiled. Kitty blushed. "So what?" The girl turned away from the knowing goth and concentrated on putting her clothes back in the closet.

"Nothin'," Rogue said nonchalantly and picked up some clean smelling clothes to change into.

"At least I'm not playing hard to get with a French tease," Kitty retorted.

"Ah'm glad Ah'm not either," Rogue said pulling her fresh shirt over her head. She successfully got the form fitting tank top over the correct part of her body and pulled at the bottom of her shirt to cover her belly-button.

"You are so in denial," Kitty chided.

Rogue popped her hip and looked disdainfully at her roommate. "Ah don' even know anyone who's French."

"UGGH," Kitty grunted in frustration and crumbled the shirt in her hands. "You know who and what I'm talking about so stop playing dumb."

"Good idea, Ah'll leave that up ta ya an' your 'art history' tutorin' session," Rogue said with a satisfactory grin. The goth thought for a second. "Are you even takin' art history?"

"Yes," Kitty replied with a hint of annoyance in her voice. "I have it with Kurt fourth period,"

There was a pause for another second while Rogue thought. "Ah don' remember Kurt talkin' 'bout any project." Kitty remained silent and put her clothes in her hamper, not making any eye contact with Rogue. "There ain' any art project, is there?" she guessed.

The grade-A student blushed. "Yes, there is!" she defended loudly. "An extra credit project."

Despite the fact that the sentence was barely above a whisper and the house was beginning to bustle with Saturday morning cartoon goers, Rogue laughed unrestrainedly when she heard it.

"Oh, shut up," Kitty weakly retorted. When the goth didn't stop laughing, the sophomore stuck out her tongue and phased to another part of the mansion.

A few seconds after she left, Rogue was able to swallow her amusement and continue with her normal morning preparations. Midway through throwing her comforter neatly over her unmade bad, a head popping out from the mattress frightened her.

"Geezzz, Kit!!" Rogue jumped. "Ah stopped laughin' a couple minutes ago, ya didn' have ta try an' scare 'em out o' me!"

"Sorry," Kitty replied sheepishly. "I just wondered if you could, like, drop me at the library before you go to work."

"Ah'm gettin' a ride with Jean today so ya'll have to ask her," Rogue told the seemingly severed head.

"Jean took off hours ago," Kitty informed her roommate. "Apparently Scott's little brother had no clue about the Mexico thing and has been in Hawaii the whole time."

So Jean's vision was right. Ah bet Professor X's kickin' himself fo' not believin' her now. "Looks like ah'm stealin' Red's car for today. So that's why ya were so insistent Ah get up fo' work. Ya needed a ride," Rogue accused.

Kitty didn't deny it. "Will you give me a ride or not?"

Her roommate thought for a moment. "Ah'll give ya a ride, but Ah'm leavin' in thirty minutes, with o' without ya."

The valley girl gave her a perky smile. "Thanks Rogue!" Her head disappeared back into the bed.

---

Thirty-eight minutes later a gasping girl from the windy city ran through the lower level of Xavior's mansion with a heavy book bag on her back. "I'm coming!!" she yelled as she phased into the garage. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Jean's car. Kitty caught her breath for a second before running through Scott's red convertible and the back seat of Jean's car. "Thanks so much for waiting for me, Rogue!" Kitty exclaimed to the empty driver's seat. "Huh?" The girl phased to the passenger seat for a better look. She heard the inside door to the garage open and someone fumble with keys.

Kitty's eyes widened and her face set in an angry pose. The working girl unlocked the driver's side door and hopped in. Rogue didn't acknowledge Kitty as she moved the seat forward and adjusted the mirror while the garage door was going up.

Kitty finally burst. "You lied to me!"

Rogue blinked casually and faced her roommate. "Ah did ya a favor."

"By telling me you were leaving before you were, so I had to run through the house like madwoman trying to get here on time?!"

"Ya were still late," Rogue pointed out. "An' ah was serious when Ah said Ah would leave without ya."

"I can't believe you, Rogue." Kitty bounced back into the passenger seat and crossed her arms. "How am I ever going to trust you again?" Rogue rolled her eyes at the melodrama.

---

Rogue parked in the back of the building and waited for Ashley to arrive to unlock the door before getting out of Jean's car. If any suspicious characters come mah way, ah'll just run them over repeatedly (2). Hell, ah might just run some people over just fo' the fun o' it. Ah need ta vent mah frustrations now before ah have ta survive another day o' workin' with Ashley. Why someone else couldn't sub for Jamal, Ah'll never know. At least Sly will be there today ta buffer meh a bit. Then she remembered about Sly and Ashley's history, and she groaned. Or maybe it'll be worse 'cause Ah'll have to buffer him from her.

Rogue jumped when someone knocked on her window. "Let's go slacker," Ashley said before turning her back and heading to the backdoor of the store. Rogue considered staying in the car and being obstinate for a second, but instead sighed and opened her door instead.

"Hurry up and get inside before the crowd sees you!" Ashley tried to quicken the other girls pace after she unlocked the door.

Rogue passed Ashley on her way in. "The crowd?"

"Yes, crowd, more than three people in the same place at the same time," the punk princess defined. "You can't tell me you didn't see the mass of people gathered out front."

Rogue grew concerned. "No, Ah didn' come around front, Ah parked in back. What's goin' on?"

Ashley turned on the light in the back room and headed to the time clock. "Open the door and see for yourself."

Rogue headed to the door that lead to the main part of Vinyl Vintage. She opened the door a crack and stuck just her head out. At least twenty people stood outside the doors, and they didn't want the new Tool CD. They were chanting and marching. A few had picket signs. One was setting up a table to put coffee on. Rogue's eyes widened and she quickly ducked back into the back room before they saw her.

"They don' know Ah'm here," Rogue said. "Ah could leave now an' then they'll just go home an' not give ya any problems. No one'll get hurt that way."

"What? You don't want to go out and meet your adoring fans?" Ashley questioned sarcastically. "Girl, they are here to stay whether you are here or not. I'm not going to stop you from leaving if you want to, but you won't have a job here if you come back. If you stay I could make you work in the back room or the office all day and they will never know. But I guarantee that it will make no difference to them. If they are smart, they have already made up their minds whether or not they will be causing trouble today and have their guardian angels picked out and informed so they can bail them out later."

"How do ya know so much 'bout protesting'?" the goth asked.

Ashley smiled. "Didn't you know? I'm an anarchist."

Rogue didn't buy it for a second. "Ya are not. Ya're more like a dictator." Rogue could see Ashley or someone like her taking over Cuba after Fidel Castro finally died (3).

She shrugged. "Either way I don't like to be bossed around." Ashley walked out of the back room and headed into Jamal's office. Rogue watched her pick up the phone through the window.

"What are ya doin'?" Rogue opened the door to ask.

"Makin' sure the cops know in case we need some crowd control." Ashley shooed Rogue away with her hand as someone picked up on the other end.

The X-Woman considered her options: One, go home. She took another peak out into the main room. Three more people had arrived. If Ah go back ta the mansion, then Ah'm only savin' myself. These people would have scared meh out o' mah job and met one o' their goals. Ashley's right. It killed Rogue to admit that. If Ah were ta leave, they would still stay an' want ta make an example outta a mutant friendly establishment. They are protesting mah workin' here as much as Jamal sellin' ta anyone he pleases. So ah guess Ah'm stayin'.

Two, work unseen in the back room. Again only savin' myself an' mah job. They will still be there an' have successfully scared meh inta not showin' mah face. Ah'm not a coward. They can' frighten meh from goin' an' doin' what Ah want ta do. Plus, workin' in the back room all day is gonna be borin' as hell.

Three, work on as if nothin' is goin' on. As if this is as normal as last Saturday. No, that's not a good example. Nothin' in mah life is ever normal, least of all last weekend. Rogue sighed. Why does everythin' have ta be so complicated? Mah workin', life at the institute, Remy... Ah don' want life ta be simple an' easy, but could ah get a break once in a while? Rogue realized her thoughts had wandered off in an unforeseen tangent and brought them back on task. So it looks as if Ah'm stayin' here an' workin' out there. With only glass separating meh an' the people who want ta see meh dead in a dumpster. There has gotta be a better way ta go 'bout this day than just ignorin' them. There has gotta be a way ah can make mah own little protest in here. Rogue racked her brain. She came up empty.

Ashley came out of the office. "So, what's the verdict?"

"Ah'm stayin' an' Ah prefer not ta be banished ta the back room." The rest Ah'll have ta take as it comes. Ashley shrugged and entered the store. Rogue put her hand on doorknob. She took a deep breath and passed through the unfeeling door and into a world just as cold, hard, unbending, and unsympathetic.

---

"Thanks so much for coming out to help me with my art history project," Kitty praised Piotr Rasputin as they walked from the library to a nearby gyro shop. Piotr had met Kitty at the library shortly after noon, brainstormed for an hour, then decided that they needed to refuel before continuing.

"It was not a problem," Piotr smiled and held open the door to the restaurant for her. They went inside and ordered sandwiches, hummus, a salad, drinks and sat down at a table. Their conversation continued merrily and lightheartedly. They talked about art, schooling, and life in their prospective homes. Piotr was having a great time. Kitty did not get the least bit upset when he could not remember the words or would accidentally switch back to his native Russian. She would just smile and ask him questions and try and give him the word he wanted. He learned a lot just listening to her speak too. He was teaching her about art, a universal language, and she was helping him with her spoken language.

Piotr was telling Kitty about one of the many exciting afternoons that come as a consequence of living with a crazed pyromaniac, a Cajun flirt, and a volatile mutant weapon when the atmosphere suddenly changed. The expression on Kitty's face turned from happy and interested, to confused, to frightened, to angry. Piotr noticed that her eyes had moved from his face to their uncovered drinks sitting on the table. They were moving, slowly vibrating toward the edges of the table. Kitty then glared out the nearest window until she spotted who she was looking for.

There stood Lance Alvers, Avalanche, member of the Brotherhood of Mutants, recent ex-boyfriend of one Katherine Pryde. He had hurt and anger in his eyes and an Ace Hardware bag in his hand. He had decided to walk to the hardware store since he didn't have any money to put gas into his Jeep, and it was probably one of the last nice days before the cold was going to hit. He always liked taking a walk alone, it cleared his head, helped him think. The only thing he liked more was aimlessly driving, which required a lot more money than it used to so walking had to do.

It was on a whim that he looked into the gyro shop. He had never eaten there before, but Fred said they had good food and the daughter of the owner worked there, and she was pretty hot. He wasn't hungry and had no money, so he glanced in the window. There, sitting at a table, smiling and giggling was his Kitty. No, not my Kitty anymore. He clenched his fists. Not anyone else, my ass.

He stood outside the joint, frozen in his spot. He waited there until Kitty noticed him. It wasn't long before her head turned his way. She stood up abruptly, pushing her chair back into the table behind her. With a fixed "I mean business" look on her face, she marched straight through the booth next to the window, disgusting the family eating there, and then through the window itself.

"Knock it off, Lance," Kitty sternly told him. Lance unclenched his fists and the shaking stopped. He didn't even realize that he was doing it.

"'No one else, huh?" Lance spat at her and threw his arm in Piotr's direction. Piotr wasn't sure what to do, so he remained sitting and watched for the time being.

"Piotr is helping me with my art history project," Kitty defended once again that day. "We got hungry. This is not a date!"

"Yeah, right," Lance doubted. "That's not what it looked like to me."

Kitty put bluntly. "Well, you're wrong."

"I can't believe you, Kitty!" Lance yelled. "It's one thing to break up with me to go out with tin can, but you lied to me! You told me there wasn't anyone else. That you had some soul searching thing you wanted to go on."

"But I'm not going out with him!" Kitty stomped the ground for effect and to relieve a bit of her frustration.

"Yeah, keep saying that if it will help you sleep at night," Lance shot back. "Were you always this flaky and fickle?! Did I mean anything to you?!"

Kitty grew red and tears formed behind her eyes from anger and hurt. "Of course you did! I'm not trying to hurt you, Lance! I'm just trying to find out what I, like, want and need! And it surely isn't you!" Kitty only added that last line to hurt him like his words hurt her. She didn't really mean it. She wasn't sure of anything at this point. Was she on a date? Is that was Piotr thought? Rogue certainly implied that earlier that day. Was she dressed for a date? She looked down at her clothes. She certainly put the time into her outfit as if it were a date.

The words stung Lance just as Kitty wanted them to. "FINE! I don't care! Why did I ever want to go out with a preppy little nerd like you, I'll never know! You always looked down on me, Kitty! Like I wasn't good enough to be with you, and you were doing me a favor by dating me! Well you're wrong, I'm not a charity case!" He stormed off.

Kitty stood outside for a moment yet. Piotr finally decided that he should act. He came out and put his large hands lightly on her shoulders. "Are you feeling okay?"

Kitty sniffled and responded curtly. "Fine." And she ran inside to the bathroom to cry.

Again, Piotr did not know what to do. He was not used to the drama of a city girl, or girls in general for that matter. He went back to their table and cleaned up. Kitty was still in the bathroom when he had finished, so he gathered up the leftovers and stood outside the door. After two minutes, he hadn't heard anything from the tiny room, so he decided to knock. Just as his hand was about to make contact with the door, it opened. A red-eyed Kitty emerged.

"I had your hummus put in a box for you," was all Piotr could think of to say.

''Thanks," the girl said quietly. "Piotr," she addressed, looking up at him, straight in the eye. "I want to make sure that we are on the same page here: This isn't a date. I want to be friends with you and get to know you better, but I'm not ready to date anyone just yet. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Piotr said and almost hid all of his disappointment from his voice. But if there was one thing Piotr was, he was patient, and he realized that he did have a better chance of eventually being with Kitty than anyone else he knew. With that thought, he smiled and said, "We should be returning to the library to finish?"

Kitty returned the smile. "Yes, let's." And the two left the gyro house and headed back toward the building with the books.

---

A young woman with short cropped black and red hair sighed as she looked in the spotty mirror of the upstairs bathroom at the Brotherhood house. She took a deep breath, exhaled, and leaned into the reflective surface. She brought her right hand to left eye and tried to keep her eye from blinking with her left hand. Her black eyeliner pencil had almost reached her eyelid when her hand began to shake.

"Bugger," she said, using her boyfriend's slang, and put her pencil down on the bathroom counter. The pencil and her other make-up began to move around and fall into the sink. Wanda then realized that it wasn't her hand that was shaking, but the whole house.

A scowl formed on Wanda's face as she stomped over to the bathroom window that faces the front yard. She violently threw open the screenless window and leaned her entire upper body out of it. "LANCE!! IF YOU DON'T KNOCK IT OFF RIGHT NOW, I'LL CASTRATE YOU LIKE THE YELLOW BASTARD (3.5)!!"

The Witch brought herself back inside and slammed the window shut. Again, she approached the mirror with the evil, but necessary pencil. Again she almost reached contact when someone's stair stomping broke her concentration.

"LANCE!" she threw open the door and yelled. "So help me, I will find a hole in your body you didn't know you had and forcibly insert my eyeliner into it if you do not knock it off! After I finally put it on, of course."

"Stupid women," Lance declared. Wanda did not receive that well. Lance was electrocuted by the ceiling light in the hallway that had just fallen on his head.

"What's your problem?!" Lance shouted at her once he regained his senses.

"Stupid men and eyeliner," Wanda again leaned into the mirror and attempted to put the make-up on. With one eye completed, the Witch stood upright to examine her work, "What the hell is yours?"

"Stupid women, or woman, I should say," the electro shock therapy had calmed and focused Lance's anger a little better. "Hell, she isn't even a woman; she's a spoiled little brat."

"Kitty?" Wanda guessed and leaned into the mirror again to finish her challenge. She figured that if she keep Lance talking and pretended to be interested in his love life that he wouldn't try and move the house off the foundation again.

"Yeah, she broke up with me Monday and today I saw her on a date with that tin can from Magneto's pet group." He stood up and leaned on the doorway to the bathroom.

"I don't understand why you're so upset," the girl told him as she rummaged in her make-up bag. "It's not like she cheated on you or betrayed you. You aren't together anymore. Why can't she date Petey?"

"Because she told me there was no one else and that's not why she broke up with me! She tried telling me she wasn't sure what she wanted, and she wanted to find herself or some crap like that. Bullshit! She just found someone better," Lance told the listening Witch. "I bet she even went out with him before we broke up too."

"I doubt it. She's a little too honest and innocent for that," Wanda commented as she applied her burgundy eye shadow.

"We had something," Lance continued rant, "and she lied to me. It's not that easy to get over someone who was so important in your life for so long. What would you do if that fire guy you've been seeing broke it off with you and then went out on a date with. . . Jean Grey less than a week later?"

"John would never go out with Jean," Wanda retorted avoiding the question. But what would I do? Would I want to kill him for tossing me aside? Abandoning me like my father? Would I want to take vengeance on the slut? Would I cry? What would I do? Wanda left those questions to ponder on a future date. "Our relationship is very different than yours and Kitty's."

"How?" Lance wanted to know.

"It's..." Wanda pulled her mascara brush from its casing. "I don't know what it is, but it's nothing like your relationship with Kitty. What did you like about her anyway?" Wanda threw the conversation back to Lance.

"I don't know." After a short pause he continued, "I guess because she always saw the best in me. Made me want to be better. Be the person she saw in me."

"And you can't see that in yourself?" she asked as her eyelashes thickened.

"I can now," Lance said. "But not before."

"Well at least you got something out of it," Wanda sent some perspective Lance's way.

"Yeah," he agreed, "but I didn't want it to end. Not like this."

"But it;s done," she pointed out. "She has obviously moved on. Quite quickly, I might add. Now that you know this new stuff about her, do you really want to date her again?"

"Yes," Lance said without hesitation. "It was nice, having someone."

"Kitty;s not the only someone in the world," Wanda told him.

"She was the only someone in my world," he mumbled and looked at the floor.

"I hope you don't expect me to mop up your tears," Wanda gave up the consoling session turned pity fest. She pulled out her lip liner. "John and Remy will be here soon."

"I wasn't gonna to cry," Lance defended. "If you don't want to talk about me anymore let's talk about you. What in the hell possessed you to go out with the pyromaniac? Didn't you have enough of the crazy people in the asylum?"

"I was in solitary," Wanda pointed out. "I saw the guards, tutors, and the bald man, that's it. At night I'd hear the crazies, but it was mostly crying and screaming." The Witch was now ready for her blood red lip stick. "And I don't have to justify who I hang out with to you."

"Humor me." Lance crossed his arms and leaned sideways against the doorway. "I spilled my guts."

"I didn't ask."

"But you played the game."

"I didn't realize that it was a mutual event," she said.

"Too bad, it's your turn. Do his insane antics turn you on?"

"No," she said in an irritated tone. The Witch sighed and decided that she had nothing to lose by confessing, aside from an annoying house mate. "Don't get me wrong, John is insane. And I think he has ADD. But aside from that he....I don't know.

"Let me put it this way, even though Mystique got me out of the asylum, I was still a prisoner there until I met John. I didn't think I could live my life until my father's life was ended, painfully, by me. Until restitution was paid. Only after that could I have my life back. But John made me realize that I already had my life back. And that my life won't wait to happen until I kill Magneto, although that is still one of my short-term goals."

I'm almost free. Like I'm on probation. Once Magneto is gone from my life, I'll be totally free. But until then, I can still enjoy myself.

Wanda went on without being prompted. "John can find good times in just about anything, no matter how lame. That's one of the things that's great about him. And he really isn't that scared of me. Well, there was that one time I came after him with a cleaver, but other than that -"

Lance interjected. "A cleaver? Then it is true. You two are the kinkiest couple in Bayville."

Wanda, with her face now complete, slowly and dramatically turned her head to the mutant in the doorway. "I'm done with you today," she said and hexed him across the hall into Toad's room. Then she slammed and locked the door to the bathroom.

With nothing else to do, Lance picked himself up and went downstairs to watch television. Halfway down the stairway the front door burst open. "Wanda, luv!" St. John Allerdyce shouted. "We're here! Oh, hello, mopey Joe."

Let's just say that Lance did not enjoy being called "mopey Joe." As he finished coming downstairs and shoved the Aussie into the hall closet door. St. John was very confused and his face showed it, "Huh? What'd I do to you, mate?" Remy thought about opening a can of whop-ass on the boy, but his hands were full with bags of fast food, and he didn't want to waste it after all they went through to get it.

"You owe me gas money, mate," Lance told him and stepped back with his arms crossed. Lance was able to patch up his front tires with Todd's slime so he was saved from that expense and didn't bring it up. John took some space from the wall and looked down at his pants. He turned out his empty pockets, then shrugged. Lance's expression didn't change.

John got a brainstorm and pointed to the imaginary light bulb above his head. He walked over to Remy grabbed a bag of food and pulled out a large fry and offered it to Lance. "Greasy chips of peace?"

Lance let his arms fall and snatched the french fries. "I'll consider this a down payment." Lance turned and walked into the living room.

"Don't worry, Don Corleone! Next time, I'll bring cannolis!" John shouted after him. (4)

Lance smiled at the reference to his favorite movies. "Don't forget the cannolis, Clemenza!" (4)

"We're not goin' back out to get cannolis," Remy declared as Wanda came down the stairs.

"Why not?" John looked questionably up at Remy.

"Because we already went to four places before we were even served," Remy reminded the Aussie. "And d'en two more because you had cravings!"

"Forget where you were blacklisted at?" Wanda guessed.

"Non, John wanted four more on de list," Remy growled.

John did the opposite and smiled proudly. "An even fourteen. That's a multiple of forty-two!" Then he frowned and slouched,."But the fourth place served us despite my antics."

"He tap danced on a table an' everythin'," Remy described. "He put Fred Astaire to shame."

"That old pansy has nothing on me," John bragged.

"D'at's not what I meant by 'puttin' Fred Astaire to shame,'" Remy clarified.

"What?! I was beautiful and graceful, and not a hundred and two and trying to bang a twenty-eight year old Audrey Hepburn (5)," John argued.

"I can imagine," Wanda said dryly. "Are we going or are we going to sit here and critique John's dance technique all day?"

"You wanna see?" the boy asked eagerly.

"No," Wanda said and pulled him by his shirt collar out the front door after Remy.

---

"Is someone throwing a barbie (6) downtown or what?" John exclaimed as he tried to weave through the backed up traffic and people.

"I don' know," Remy answered as he stared out his window at all the people. "Stop here, I'll walk the rest o' de way. You guys find somewhere to park."

"Okay boss." John saluted Remy as he popped out of the back seat.

As Remy walked toward Vinyl Vintage, the crowd only seemed to get thicker. What in de world is goin' on? he asked himself. Across the street from the store, he got his answer. For the past few hours the masses had accumulated. Some people spilled out into the streets which was probably causing the traffic back up. The sidewalks in front of the store were packed shoulder to shoulder with people chanting. Those with signs and sandwich boards gave up on pacing and were just wiggling their signs and yelling. The card table that was set up for coffee was gone and replaced with someone serving drinks and sandwiches out of the back of their trucks and a van.

The Cajun mutant took a second to take it all in. Mon deiu. He readjusted his sunglasses over his telltale eyes and crossed the street between the barely moving automobiles. Once he got to the main concentration of the crowd it was harder to move. It was like trying to get to the bar at a packed club on a Saturday night. You pretty much stood in the same place for ten minutes before elbowing the person in front of you to get by.

At least Remy was able make his way into the crowd a lucrative one. After a few minutes he managed to get within six feet of the store. Then someone's arm got tired. A picket sign came down, knocking Remy on the side of the head.

"Hey!" he yelled at the perpetrator. The man looked to him to apologize, but stopped with his mouth hanging open. Remy recognized that look and his hand flew up to his face: His sunglasses had fallen off when he was hit in the head.

"MUTIE!!!" The man with the tired arm screamed. Everyone in the immediate vicinity stopped chanting and turned to stare at the boy with the black and red glowing eyes.

Remy knew he was in trouble and tried to reach into his trench coat for his cards. But there were too many people closing in. He was a sardine in a can. He felt himself being lifted up off the ground, a moment later he was crowd surfing on his back. The mutant had become so turned around in the crowd that he didn't know which direction they were moving him in, but he would soon find out.

---

When they looked out the windows of the store, all they could see were bodies. No one in Vinyl Vintage could believe that that so many anti-mutant people in Bayville. Most of them didn't realize that Bayville even had that large of a population. Sly had tried to drown out the sounds of their vulgar sayings with music, but only succeeded in making everyone in the store have to yell at each other to hear. Not that there was anyone in the store besides the four employees: Sly, Ashley, Rogue and Warren. Oh, and one girlfriend: Ania, but she didn't have any money to buy anything. She was there purely for moral support. And it was a reason for her to procrastinate doing her research paper that was due next week.

If anyone had wanted to come into Vinyl Vintage that day, the mob outside discouraged them from trying. Instead the employees occupied their time cleaning and organizing. Let's not forget the bickering and the boredom.

Rogue and Warren took a break from miscellaneous chores and sat on the floor with Ania. All three watched the mob and made fun of some of the people in it.

"Wow, Sly!" Ania yelled over the music and across the store where Sly was doing something extremely boring.

"What?!" He yelled back.

"What kind of mullet is that one?" Ania asked. "Rogue thinks it is a camero mullet, Warren has her money on a second cousin, and I think it's a MacGyver."

Sly walked over and squinted at the crowd. "Which one?"

"That one." She pointed to someone off to the right.

"You're all wrong. It's not long enough for a camero mullet," the expert corrected. "A second cousin is usually shorter on top and doesn't have bangs, and that's a girl so it can't be a MacGyver."

All three strained and squinted at the mullet person. "That's a girl?"

"Yes," Sly declared.

"So what is it then?"

"Katrina and the Waves." The punk turned and headed back to his work.

Rogue looked out the window again, "No way. Ya are just makin' this up as ya go." The Goth was then elbowed in the stomach.

Ania put her finger to her lips and whispered, "Not so loud! He'll get out the field guide."

Her eyes widened. "A field guide?"

"Hey look!" Warren directed their attention back outside. "They must really like Sly's music; it's starting to look like a Metallica concert out there!"

Sure enough, the protesters had just lifted someone up above them. He was being passed around like a hot potato. The three girls were mesmerized by the event since it was the most exciting thing they had seen all day. Then Rogue's wonder faded. The crowd surfer was being passed closer and closer to the store.

Then it hit her. "Get back!" she screamed. They moved quickly to the back of the main room. Barely a second after they reached their new position, the crowd surfer was thrown into store through a window.

"Uhh," the man groaned.

"Remy!" Rogue screamed and ran to his side. She helped him up and moved him back to Ania, Warren, and Sly.

Ashley came out of Jamal's office where she was catching up on paperwork when she heard the crash. "What is going on out here?!"

"The mob decided ta help our first customer through the window," Rogue replied in an eerily cheerful voice. "Wasn' that nice?"

"That's it," Ashley declared. "The cops are coming here now! They should have been here already to arrest those people in the street because I seriously doubt they have a parade permit! If you'll excuse me, I'll be yelling into the office phone for a while. You two, patch the window before we get some unfriendlies running around in here." She walked back into the office and slammed the door behind her. Warren went off into the back room to get the supplies as Rogue helped Remy get settled.

Remy leaned heavily on Rogue until she got him onto a stool. "D'ey be callin' me your boyfriend out d'ere. You should go out and correct 'em, no?"

Rogue didn't make a move. "Ah don' think Ah'll bother."

Remy looked surprised. "You gonna let d'em be misguided or do you secretly wish it were true?" He smiled.

Rogue went on examining his head for any deep gashes. "Ah figure that they're wrong 'bout a lotta things an' that it would be too much work ta educate 'em all."

Warren reemerged from the back room with the materials to patch up their second broken window (6.5), and Rogue went to search for some ice and the first aid kit for Remy. Ania volunteered to patch up the Cajun so the Goth could help Warren with the window.

"We're outta staples." The kid handed Rogue the staple gun.

"Remy!" Rogue called. "Ah need the staples (6.5)."

"No," he refused. "I don' trust you wit' d'em. I didn' hit my head d'at hard."

"Ya are gonna give meh those staples, swamp rat." Rogue stomped up to look at him menacingly in the eye.

"You truly are beautiful when you're angry." The boy smiled without fear.

Rogue swiftly brought her foot underneath the legs of the stool and flipped it. But Remy was expecting it and nimbly caught himself standing before the chair fell. Unfortunately for Remy, he had forgotten that he had rolled his ankle in the fall. The sudden weight on his ankle made him wince in pain and stumble forward into Rogue, who caught him.

Remy looked up at Rogue from his awkward position. "You must really like my ass to be savin' it all de time."

The employee just rolled her eyes exhaustedly and dropped him. She then bent down and started searching through the pockets of his trench coat.

"Gentle, chere," Remy joked. "I'm not healed enough from de fall to be doin' anythin' too rough yet."

Without a quip response coming to her lips, the Goth became embarrassed. Rogue found the staples and was able to turn away before blushing. She quickly walked back to Warren, careful not to let Remy see her reddened face before she got it under control. She loaded the staple gun and looked at her task.

She and Warren tried to set up the ladder next to the window, but the crowd kept reaching through and jiggling it whenever Rogue tried to climb up it. Rogue grew hot and frustrated and all of their comments being shouted at her were not helping her mood. Sometimes Ah wish Ah had powers like Jean and just shove these guys back about three feet with a telekinetic wall. Rogue threw her arms out like she had seen Jean do a million times. "Move back!!!" And, as if like magic, the mob yielded to her wishes.

She was stunned for a second, but a monosyballic comment from Warren snapped her quickly into action. Rogue ran up the ladder and Warren handed her the top of the plastic roll. The mob was recovering quickly so she worked haphazardly to staple the top the vinyl to the window frame and jump off the ladder before anyone could get to her.

The plastic was up, but had horizontal issues. "Great job, did you do the Pisa too?" Warren said sarcastically.

"No one's stoppin' ya from fixin' it," Rogue shot back. "Except those losers out there who like ta play london bridge is fallin' down with the ladder." Warren shut her mouth and helped Rogue make it work. It was a very wrinkly cover job, but it served its purpose. It kept the haters out and the outcasts in.

"This is a music store, not an art gallery." Ashley emerged from the office to comment on window treatment. "I don't care what kind of statement you are making with that, but take it down and make it professional."

"It works," Rogue declared. "Ya want it 'professional' ya go ahead an' fix it yourself."

"Hey, I'm in charge today, and I say fix it," Ashley pulled rank.

"It'll get fixed after the protesters leave," Sly told Ashley.

"No, it'll get fixed now," Ashley argued. "It looks like the building is condemned."

"It will be if we egg on the mob by putting Rogue up against the window again."

"They practically threw her off the ladder the first time," Ania added.

"Who asked you?" Ashley turned to the girlfriend. "You have no authority here."

Sly drew Ashley's attention back to himself. "For the safety of the employees, which is very important to our boss, the window will stay as is until the mob outside vacates."

"Fine," she finally relented. "The cops will be here soon. If they don't get here in twenty minutes, tell me, and I'll make another call." She headed back into Jamal's office, defeated.

After Ashley exited, Rogue finally got a good look at Ania's first aid job on Remy. She didn't even try to restrain her laughter. "You want a Scooby-snack, swamp rat?"

The Cajun's trench coat had protected most of his body from the glass, only his hands, neck and head were covered in little cuts. Ania had clean out the glass from the cuts and covered each one with a Scooby-doo Band-Aid. "De were de only ones in de kit!" he defended.

Meanwhile Ania stared intently at the first aid kit she was repacking and struggled to contain herself. She swallowed her laughter and looked toward the two. "Yup, only the Scoobies." She winked at Rogue then turned away quickly, giggling softly.

Ten minutes later, red and blue flashing lights were seen outside the music store. The protesters crammed each other closer to the store as those in the street tried to fit on the sidewalk. The temporary window covering bowed inward as people pressed themselves into the plastic, but remarkably the plastic held.

Warren informed Ashley of the arrival of the police. "What is taking them so long to get up here?" She said after a few minutes of waiting.

"I don't think they can get through," Ania said as she stood on her toes and looked out over the crowd.

"That's pathetic," the other girl announced.

"What do you expect them to do, eh? Beat them down and walk over them?" Ania asked Ashley.

She shrugged. "Whatever works." Eyes were rolled.

"And now I introduce Ashley," Sly announced, "new lobbyist for police brutality and capital punishment."

"I'm not the one tossing people through windows, knocking people off ladders, and holding up traffic," she defended.

"No, you're just advocating actions that lead to police states," Ania remarked under her breath to her boy.

"Did you say something?" Ashley snapped although she didn't hear the words.

"Not to you." Ania looked the other girl in the eye.

"Something's happening outside," Sly pointed, thankful for the change in direction of the conversation.

All six of the people inside the store watched the scene outside unfolded. They saw the cops back up from the crowd, and stand across the street. Then the people near the door to Vinyl Vintage began to lose their footing. Suddenly the sidewalk in front of the store split and lifted up. The concrete rolled back on itself sending those standing on top of it stumbling to the ground and landing in dog piles of other protesters.

A man with fire orange hair hopped across the road to the door. He took off his jean jacket and tossed in onto the exposed ground. With one hand he opened the door and the other he held out for his companion in red to help her across. But the girl was not one for assistance, she was one for power and independence; so she ignored his hand and stepped across his jacket to enter the front doors. John barely nabbed his jacket before the sidewalk fell back into place. He rushed into the store.

"Welcome to Saudi Arabia, Moes," Sly referred to the way Wanda had parted the crowd to pass.

She didn't understand what Sly was talking about and gave him a funny look. "How'd you know I was Jewish?"

"You're Jewish?" St. John asked for confirmation.

"My family is," the Witch clarified. "I haven't practiced in years."

Sly tried to explain. "I meant you parted the mob was kind of like Moses parting . . . oh, never mind." Sly threw his hands to the side to disregard the comment.

"I always liked Chanukah more than Christmas," John commented.

"Why's that?" Wanda asked.

"D'ink 'bout it," Remy couldn't believe Wanda didn't know instantly why someone like Pyro would prefer Chanukah.

"More fire," she realized.

Behind John and Wanda the police scrambled to secure the area of the sidewalk directly in front of the store before the protesters recovered and filled in. The rookies put up police tape, roping off the entryway while a few other officers with plastic shields posted themselves on the borders. The cops with the shields pushed back the protesters that tried to break and cross the tape.

Now that those in the store could see the street, they saw several marked vans that cops were loading up people on. But the few that were arrested were hardly noticeable. And now that the protesters were forced from spilling into the streets, the people were squeezed further down the block, disrupting a few other businesses unintentionally. There were also a few news crews that had finally managed turn down the block, getting equipment out to film it all and spin it how they wanted.

Rogue tried to crane her neck to see how far the mob went down the street without leaving the building.

Wanda read her mind. "They go all the way down to Jukebox Joe's that way and Pillarbox Gifts in the other. I threw a few of the most vulgar ones down into the sewers, but more popped up."

"I still think they must be cloning them somewhere nearby," John theorized.

Wanda paused and turned her ears to speakers in the music store. "This music is so refreshing."

Rogue looked at her friend like she just sprouted another head. "Since when do ya like Rancid?"

"Oh, I don't," Wanda replied.

"Then why did ya say ya liked it?" she asked.

"Is it John singing 80's pop music?" Wanda asked.

"No."

"That's why."

As if Wanda had made a request and not a complaint, John took that moment to start singing. "'They told him don't you ever hum-de-dum-dum. Don't wanna see your face, you butter disappear. The fire's in their eyes, their words are de-de-here. So beat it, do-do-do, just beat it! (7)'" Then he did a little dance.

"Wow."

"You should here him try and sing in German," Wanda made a faux recommendation. The Witch figured that since she had to endure over thirty minutes of it while trying to find a parking space, that these people could join in her suffering.

And as if on cue, John switch songs, "Hast do Ed vast zignz van enough, dann singin' shine ich ein for dish, von ninety-nine shed luftballons - (8) "

Ashley turned urgently to Remy. "Make him stop singing!" She pointed to St. John.

Before Remy could react Ania exclaimed, "You can't just order people around like that, Ashley. He doesn't even work here!"

The other girl sneered at her. "You want him to stop don't you? Oh, and did you clean your cheek prints off the window yet?"

The Canadian had no intention of following Ashley's orders. "No, I think I'll ask Rogue to stand in front of it for a while so the mob will break it."

---

On the side, John stopped singing on his own and asked to be filled in. "What's the big deal about her putting her cheeks on the window?"

"The other kind of cheeks, John-boy," Rogue informed the clueless wonder.

"Oh, OH! Why'd she do that?"

"They wanted ta 'See the mutie's ass under glass,' but Ania hoped hers would do," Rogue whispered as she intently watched the sparking cat fight.

"Did it?"

"Nope, they still wanna see mah ass." Rogue looked over her shoulder and lightly slapped her buttocks for effect.

"D'ey aren't de only ones, chere," Remy added. "I'm glad you decided to wait until I could get here."

"No one is seein' mah ass except meh an' mah gynecologist," she declared.

"We'll see 'bout d'at," Remy smirked. "Some'hing dat sexy shouldn't hidden."

Remy's smirk sparked Rogue's spiteful and ironic side. "Okay, swamp rat. Ya've convinced meh." She marched over to the same window Ania mooned the protesters from. She turned around so her backside was toward the glass. "Ya'd better hurry an' get outside if ya wanna see it fo' the first an' last time in your life." Rogue bent over and undid her belt.

Remy briefly considered running outside then tried to call her bluff. "You're not really gonna go d'rough wit' it."

"Oh really," she raised an eyebrow to the challenge and she dropped trou. Remy's and John's jaws dropped. Wanda half-smiled and nodded in approval. Warren rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, while Sly, Ania, and Ashley couldn't have been paying less attention.

---

The girls moved closer to one another after Ania refused to ever clean her cheek prints off the window. "I'm surprised the glass didn't break itself when your fat ass touched it," Ashley insulted.

"I'm sure it's built up a tolerance after having to look at your face all the time," Ania shot back.

"Are you comparing my face to your ass?" she asked.

"Yes, and we all know which is cuter!" Ania answered. "Just ask Sly!"

Sly slipped his arms between the two and tried to put some space between them. "For the sake of peace, I have never made any comment connecting anyone's face to anyone else's ass."

"Why's your little naff here anyway?" Ashley asked. "Planned on getting some in the back room? Must you do everyone there?"

Ania charged to defend herself and her boy, but Sly's arms were there. He moved them around her waist and pulled her back toward him. He whispered something dirty and geeky into her ear and she laughed, releasing her negative emotions.

"Did you intimately complement her or make some stupid comic book analogy?" Ashley knew her ex well.

"I happen to like his geeky analogies!" Ania defended. She wiggled around in Sly's arms to make herself more comfortable and to remind Ashley who was in them, and who wasn't.

Ashley bit her lip as Ania's actions hurt her more than she knew they should. Just as she was about spout out something unthoughtful and hurtful, a slam and a crack interrupted their argument.

All three looked to the butt cheek window and saw Rogue skip a few steps forward while zipping up her pants. The window was cracked in the center where "Katrina" had thrown some unidentifiable hard object.

"Were you provoking them?!" Ashley scolded the mutant.

"All Ah really was ta piss Remy off," Rogue said loudly over the increased shouting and pounding, "but Ah guess Ah did."

Ashley dropped her head into her hand. "I don't have to confine you to the back room, do I?"

"No one is getting confined to the back room," Sly overruled. "We just have to -"

"Have to what?" Ashley shouted over the increasing noise from outside. "How are you going to fix this, oh, all-knowing one?"

One person in the room got an idea of how to handle it. "Let's have some fun." The Scarlet Witch smiled as she turned away from the cracked window and looked to her boyfriend. "Did you bring your scary face today?"

"Sorry." John shrugged. "I must have left it in my other pants. Will my certifiably insane face do?"

"How does d'at different from your normal face?" Remy asked his teammate. Remy turned and started to limp toward Rogue.

John stuck out his foot and tripped Remy. "Ops, sorry, Shaggy," he said without a hint of sincerity.

"Don' call me Shaggy!" Remy's first aid job was a sore spot. From the floor he swept his good foot underneath John and sent him to the floor.

"Okay, Daphne, don't run your pink tights just for me," John continued to tease him.

"At least I'm not crazy old man Winter," Remy shot back at the Aussie.

"Don't make fun of Uncle Winter!" John pounced on top of the Cajun. The crowd outside began to cheer as the two Acolytes wrestled. Wanda rolled her eyes and stepped over the two, heading to the cracked window.

"Yeah!" the crowd shouted. "Finish each other off!" "Save us the trouble!" "Hit 'em with the right! Hit 'em with the right!" "Which one?" "Does it matter?"

John and Remy stopped rolling around. John, who was on top, looked Remy in the eyes. "I'm sorry, but I'm no longer in the mood."

"Me neither," Remy agreed. John rolled off of his friend and stood up. Remy did likewise.

John joined the Scarlet Witch at the cracked window. "So what's the plan, Scarlet?"

"Stare at one and make it menacing." John stood at her side, put on his face, a wicked grin. He didn't blink.

The bells above the door jingling didn't break their stare for a second. A news crew rushed inside, microphones ready. They overwhelmed the two arguing assistant managers. They asked them to wait a minute. Ashley called the other two employees over to huddle.

"Can I join you?" Remy asked after being excluded from the impromptu staff meeting Sly, Ashley, Warren, and Rogue were having near the cash register. Wanda nodded in approval, and Remy stood on her other side fixing his glowing red and black eyes on a single protester.

Ania came over, but sat in the background. "I'd join you, but my scary is pretty laughable. I think I'll leave it to the professionals."

"I don't know," Remy told her without losing his stare. "You looked pretty scary back d'ere wit' Ashley." She shrugged and looked back and forth between the occupants of Vinyl Vintage.

"What do we do with the camera crew?" Warren asked as the four employees huddled behind the counter.

"Should we call Jamal?" Rogue suggested.

"SSHHH!" Sly threw his arms out like a conductor silencing an orchestra. "We need to assess the situation and agree on a course of action before we talk to anyone."

"Great idea, fearless leader," Ashley's voice dripped with sarcasm. She looked over her shoulder at the energized crowd. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw one protester scream and run away from the window followed by high-fiving from the other mutants in the store. She turned back to the huddle. "You know that once we close up and leave, the cops go, and they will most likely trash the place." She glanced at the two broken and one cracked window. "If they can wait that long."

"So what do we do?" Rogue asked.

"What can we do?" she replied pessimistically.

Sly stroked his chin hoping it would send some charge up to his brain to jump start his creativity. It worked: He got an idea. "What if we don't close?"

Ashley looked at him skeptically. "What do you mean, 'don't close?'"

"Let's have a counter-protest!" he said excitedly. "People do it all the time when the neo-nazis come out. We'll have a coexistence party here in the store until the protesters leave! We'll make flyers in Jamal's office, and we can use the news crews to advertise!"

"You're insane," Ashley told him outright. "And I always liked that about you. Call Jamal, and check with him. You," she pointed to Warren, "go and make up some flyers on the office computer. Make copies on the hideous fluorescent paper. Rogue, once we get the go ahead, you are going to make the announcement to the news crews."

"Meh?" She grew nervous, remembering how fat she looked last time she was on TV.

"It would have the most impact if the resident mutant employee made the announcement," she reasoned. "Don't wet yourself," Ashley added when she noticed how nervous the girl was.

"Ah don' like cameras," she confessed the obvious.

"Suck it up," Ashley ordered. "You are not going to go floating through life. Now go brush your hair and look presentable while I stall the reporters."

Rogue's stubbornness resurfaced after Ashley's comment about her hair. She crossed her arms and didn't head to the bathroom. She did inconspicuously look at her reflection in the glass of the counter to make sure she didn't look like a hobo.

Sly clipped his cordless phone back to his belt. He smiled and gave Ashley and Rogue the thumbs up sign. Rogue froze to her spot. She was excited about the idea of the counter-protest, but scared shitless about coherently speaking on television. Ashley parted politely with the reporters as they finished setting up their shot.

"You're on," she told the girl and shoved her over to the spotlight.

---

"I'm, like, totally exhausted." Kitty closed the cover on the oversized art book she was looking at and let her head fall limp over the back of the chair.

"It was a very hard afternoon," Piotr agreed. "But the time passed quickly. It is nearly six o'clock."

"Six o'clock!" Kitty exclaimed, then was hushed by the librarian walking by. "Wow, you're right." Kitty looked around at the piles of books and notes she had taken. "I guess we should call it a day," she said with a hint of sadness in her voice.

"Is your project finished?" Piotr asked.

"No," Kitty reported. "I still have to do a visual, and type up all of this information for display."

"What are you planning for your visual?" he asked curiously.

The Chicagoan shrugged. "I don't know yet. I guess I'll figure that out when I get home." She started to pack up her things. Piotr also stood up and started to neatly pile the books. "Hey," Kitty said just thinking of something to extend their time together. "You don't think you could give me a ride back to the Institute, do you?"

Piotr's shoulders dropped in disappointment as he would have to refuse the smiling sprite. "I am sorry. Remy and John have the automobile today. They dropped me off."

Kitty's smile faded. "Yeah, Rogue dropped me off too. Where are you meeting them?"

"I am to go to Vinyl Vintage before seven p.m. Remy will be there."

A broad grin emerged on the valley girl's face as she flung her book bag over her shoulder. "Looks like we're heading in the same direction. Care to join me?"

Piotr smiled. "Of course."

When Kitty and Piotr walked up the block, they were as surprised by the protest as everyone else. The police were able to keep the crowd back as they made their way to the front doors. Some of the people threw styrofoam cups and stale donuts at them. Kitty grew nervous and sought protection in Piotr's giant form.

Inside Vinyl Vintage, the atmosphere was just as energized and chaotic. Rogue was on the telephone, Sly, Ania, Warren, and Remy were moving shelves to the edges of the room. Ashley ran in from the back room with a fold out table and a button maker.

"Are you here to work, play, or shop?" the blonde assistant manager asked the steel giant and the petite girl.

"Uh, we're here for Rogue?" Kitty replied to the demanding girl. Rogue looked up from the phone and motioned for the two to come toward her.

Halfway there, a sweaty Remy jumped behind Piotr and put his arm around him. "Great to see you, Petey! You're just in time, mon ami!"

Piotr groaned inwardly, "'Just in time' for what?"

Remy turned his teammate toward the large piece of furniture he and Sly were attempting to move. It had slid a single inch from its original position. "We need to get d'at out of de way."

"Okay," he agreed. Piotr hoped he wasn't getting a reputation for being a professional mover. That seemed to be all he did lately. Move the crates, there. The couch, there. Move the crates back over there. At least he would have some work experience if he ever needed to find another job.

"What is going on?" He asked as he lifted the furniture effortlessly. Sly directed him to the side of the room where he wanted the piece to go.

"We're throwing a shindig!" Ania announced excitedly and threw her arms in the air for dramatic effect. She looked around, "But we need streamers, eh? And we need to paint stuff on the windows. . . " Ania trailed off as she began brainstorming.

"Better hurry before de all get broken," Remy told her.

"Right, quick like a bunny on crack," she nodded and headed off to the back room to look for paints.

"What do you think you are doing?" Ashley asked as she watched Ania push open the door to the back room.

"Looking for window paints." Ania smiled at her brilliant idea.

"No, you aren't." She shoved the girl out of the way. "I don't know what Sly told you, but only employees are allowed back there. You tell me what you need, and I might go get it."

"Lighten up, Ashley!" Sly shouted from across the room. "She's not going to steal anything."

"You don't know that," Ashley replied. "We need to have at least some rules and order around here! If I weren't here, you'd have everyone running around naked with body paint, wearing records as hats, boxes on their feet, and singing kumbaya!"

It took a few seconds for Sly to push that delectable imagery out of his head. "Just get her the paints, Ashley," Sly requested. "And it would be Simon and Garfunkel not kumbaya!" The girl ignored him and disappeared into the back room. She couldn't think of a good reason not to. Painting the windows was a good idea, although she would never say that out loud.

"Remy," Piotr addressed after he moved the furniture out of the way, "Do you have the keys to the automobile? Kitty would like a ride home."

At the mention of the X-girl of Piotr's affection, the Cajun winked at him. "A ride home?" he chuckled before answering the question. "Sorry, mon ami. John still has de keys. You just missed 'em too. He and Wanda went to get pizza and rent some movies."

"Do you know where they are located?"

"Non," he replied. "I know d'ey parked 'bout six blocks d'at way." He pointed in one direction. "In front o' de dollar store, but I don' know where d'ey are now. If d'ey are still parked d'ere you could probably wait fo' 'em d'ere."

"Thank you, Remy," he replied and left to report his findings to Kitty.

---

"So let me get this straight." John paused to collect his thoughts. "Getting coffee at someplace like Starmucks is bad and evil, but getting a slurpee from 7-11 is okay?" He looked up from the booth to the gothic girl sitting across from him, sipping her Coke/Dr. Pepper/Cherry-lime slurpee creation.

She swallowed the icey-goodness and set her cup down next to the remaining two pieces of pizza. "Yes, that is exactly right," she said without any further explanation.

"But 7-11 is just as widespread as Starmucks!" he exclaimed in aggravation.

Wanda remained as cool as ever. "Starmucks doesn't have slurpees."

"But they have vente mocha chocolate caramel swirl-a-chino with extra whipped cream!"

The Scarlet Witch glanced around at the pizza parlor for a moment. The place was getting crowded. Some of the families would look at their table and turn their eyes away quickly as if they were afraid of their soul being sucked from their bodies. When the kids would look over, the parents would rush to put their hands in front of the innocent eyes and turn their heads back to their food. This amused her, but she sincerely didn't understand what about them caused so much attention. Sure, earlier John was making crowns for the condiments out of disposable napkin rings, then playing with rather loudly, but was that such a head turner? Then there was the leaning tower of everything on the table. Maybe that's it. Maybe it made normal people nervous to build a four foot tower of condiments, silverware, plates, and a single full glass of water at the top held together only by probability hexing powers. She took a good look at hers and John's creation. The knifes pointing outward from the glass of water do look a little menacing. That was my personal touch. She grinned, and a baby in a high chair two booths away started crying fiercely. That's annoying. You better shove some more food in that kid's mouth pretty soon lady, she frowned and her eyes spoke to the woman nearest to the baby.

Her glaze went back to her companion, who was still ranting about 7-11 or something. She took a napkin wrote on it with the children's crayons left on the table: "Let's give them a real show." She slid the napkin over to John. He was too involved in his rant to notice the note. Wanda waited a few seconds, but grew impatient and decided to start things off anyway.

"- and a place that serves something like mocha chocolate caramel swirl-a-chino, can't be all bad!"

Wanda's face became artificially irate. She slammed her fist on the table, but, surprising to everyone in the joint, the tower remained standing. "I can't believe you would bring her up again!"

John was completely confused and out of the loop. "Huh, what?"

"That little trollop!" Wanda again slammed her fist on the table, this time over the napkin note, hoping he would notice. "You've been seeing her again, haven't you!"

"Uh . . . no?" John said with a question on his voice as he had not yet understood what was going on in Wanda's head. He wondered for a second whether, perhaps, Wanda was genuinely insane.

"Don't lie to me. you little pinprick!" Wanda grabbed a spoon out of a customer's hand and flung it at the napkin. The spoon bounced up, hitting John in the cheek and smearing spaghetti sauce on his face.

"Wha?" He was still bewildered. He picked up the napkin with the message to clean off his face. Then he noticed the words written in green crayon and put in a brief wicked smile before getting into character. "Oh. OOOHH, and you're the victim here, I bet!" He used the napkin to get the sauce of his face and destroying the evidence at the same time.

"Well, it surely isn't you!"

"Then why am I the only one who wears the fuzzy handcuffs!!"

Wanda made her face pale and her voice quiet and deepen. "I don't own any fuzzy handcuffs."

John "realized" his mistake quite nonchalantly as he looked up at the ceiling and rubbed his chin. "Oh, yeah. I guess you don't. You have the nipple clamps, right?" He looked back at her questionably.

The "victim" stood up. It took her a second to subdue her inner laughter before she could speak again. The crowd is eating this up. Well, I might as well give some justification to those kinky rumors. "NO! I can't believe you! I have the naughty nurse kit and the whip!" Wanda noticed that John was not being as successful as she was at restraining his laughter. So she picked up John's cup of water that had avoided the tower and threw it in his face, giving him a cold shower of sorts.

John's mouth gapped open in surprise. Water dripped steadily from his face as she picked up her slurpee and stomped angrily from the booth.

Halfway to the doors she stopped and turned back. "You sick bastard! She's my mother!!!" John stared at her blankly as she left. He couldn't really top that one.

Without the presence of the Witch, the tower came tumbling down. St. John was no fool and seized the opportunity to escape. "AHHH!!!!" he screamed and grabbed his eye. "My eye, my beautiful eye!" He stood up and stumbled back and forth from table to table screaming and swearing until he fell out the doors.

Once outside he ran around the block to the alley behind the building. Wanda was there waiting for him. He barely made it around the corner before bursting out into laughter. Wanda leaned up against the brick wall and chuckled as John rolled around on the ground. Eventually John calmed down and wiped the tears from his eyes. Then he chuckled for another minute before he could manage to get up off the ground.

"You done?" Wanda asked.

"Yes," he got out before one more chuckle. Then John coughed and cleared his throat. "Yes, yes, I think I am." Then he laughed again. Just for ten seconds this time. "Now I'm -"

The Witch put her hand on his mouth. "Don't jinx it. We have more work to do."

He smiled and put his arms around the girl. "You left before dessert." John pulled a chocolate chip cookie out of his jacket pocket.

"Where did you get this?" Wanda asked him.

"I snatched it from some kid on the way out."

She looked at him with concern. "You are spending too much time with Remy."

John dispelled her nonexistent concerns. "Don't worry, luv, Remy isn't my type."

"That's not what it looked like earlier," Wanda referred to the tussle at Vinyl Vintage earlier. John laughed.

He then replayed the scene from the pizza parlor in his head. "You really are good. There was no chance that I could beat that mother line." He kissed her, then they exited out of the alley with their arms around each other's waist.

Wanda shrugged. "Dysfunction runs in my family." When he didn't comment right away, she looked at his face and found it scrunched up in deep thought, which was a rarity. "What are you thinking?"

"Do you think your mom would let us snag the nipple clamps and the fuzzy handcuffs sometime?"

Wanda chuckled, but shoved him into a parked car to let him know that she was mildly insulted. "No." She thought for a second as John pushed himself off the car, then added, "Besides, the fuzzy handcuffs clash with my nurse's uniform."

The Aussie wondered if she was serious about the nurse's uniform and asked her. She just laughed without giving him an answer. The stopped walking when they were across the street from their destination: Blockmuster Video.

"Are we ready to go in this time?" she asked her consort.

John thought for a second. "You had better set it off once more." So the Scarlet Witch waved her hand and they watched as the antitheft devices blinked in an irregular manner. Personally, Wanda thought setting them off four times was enough, but didn't see the harm in doing it once more. They linked arms and crossed the street into the store.

The devices hadn't stopped blinking and making noise by the time the couple walked in. The clerks were just sighing and trying to get on with their work. Some of the customers covered their ears. One of the associates sized up the machine gave it one swift kick to no avail.

After a few seconds John stopped in its tracks. "Is it playing a song?" he asked no one in particular.

"Yes," an aggravated associate answered him. "It's been sporadically playing the 'Teddy Bear Picnic' song all night long. I'd unplug it if I knew how."

John turned to look Wanda in the face as she had her head bent down into her drink. He raised his eyebrows expectantly.

"What?" she asked after she got the last ice crystals that were evading her.

He ushered her over to a corner and whispered, "The 'Teddy Bear Picnic' song?"

She shrugged. "You said to make it creepy. What is more creepy than a song about cuddly, stuffed animals kidnapping and eating little children? I know it gave me nightmares."

St. John shook his head. "You Americans. You don't have real dangers in the forest like stinging trees, terrestrial leeches, and poisonous snakes, so you make up bad songs about man-eating stuffed bears."

"We're here to get a movie marathon, aren't we?" Wanda changed the subject.

The man from Oz saluted the Goth. "Right, let's get to work." He grabbed her hand and rushed to the horror section.

He pulled three movies off the shelf before Wanda objected. "No, I am not watching those."

John looked hurt. "But why? What could you have against Evil Dead?"

"Besides the fact that it is Todd's favorite movie, and he tried to make me watch it once?" the girl told him.

"But it's funny!"

"I don't really find a girl being assaulted by a tree all that funny," she mentioned a scene in the movie.

"It was shrubbery, not a tree," John defended. Then he realized the problem. "Which movie did you start with?"

"The first one," she told him like it was the stupidest question in the world.

John didn't think so and threw his arms up into the air. "There's your problem! Unless you are predisposed to this type of movie, you should watch the third one first, then either Evil Dead I or II. Doesn't matter which, since they are pretty much the same thing." He showed her the cover box of the third movie Bruce Campbell vs. Army of Darkness.

Wanda was less than certain. "I thought the actor's name was Bruce Campbell. The character has some girly name."

"Oh, you're right." John kept a hold on the movies and started to walk away to another section. "Isn't it brilliant?"

The Scarlet Witch didn't feel like arguing with him over it so she broke off and started to browse on her own. A half hour later John came back up to her with a single movie in his hands.

"Ready?" he asked.

She looked at the single DVD he held. "When you said 'movie marathon' I thought you meant several movies back to back. Not one movie over and over again. If I wanted to watch the same movie I'd turn on TNT."

"Trust me." The pyromaniac smiled.

She rolled her eyes, but let him play his game. She took a closer look at the video he grabbed. "I was locked away for the last six and a half years, not sixty."

He looked down at his selection. "What do you have against The Goonies?"

"Pietro and I watched it only a million times growing up," Wanda told him. "Find something else."

John shrugged and went to the nearest shelf. He came back with another movie he showed Wanda.

"Again, I wasn't that sheltered," she told him of his selection of Ghostbusters.

"But it is hilarious!" John argued. "And now you are old enough to understand all the dirty jokes!"

"Third time's a charm, John-boy." This time he came back with two options: Killer Klowns from Outer Space or Psycho Beach Party. The Witch , not being familiar with either, randomly picked one and they went up to check out.

Being videoless Wanda walked through the anti-theft devices, no problem. She grabbed the DVD they rented and John passed through the mighty columns. She was surprised when the alarms went off without being prompted to do so by her hexing powers. John nodded to her and she quickly changed the regularly beating alarm to the "Teddy Bear Picnic" song.

"Not again," the store attendants groaned. The one nearest to the couple turned toward them. "Don't worry about." He waved them off. "It's been happening all night." The pair looked at each other and left without any trouble.

"Why didn't you tell me you had movies shoved down your pants?" she asked the Aussie as they headed to the car.

"That's not the only place I shoved them," John responded.

"Not what I asked," she told him. "Really not what I asked," she repeated as bad images formed in her mind.

John just shrugged and smiled. "Wasn't it fun?"

"Sure." Wanda linked her arm in his. "Promise me one thing though," she requested at the drop of the subject.

"What?"

"You will never tell me where you shoved the videos."

"No problem."

As they approached the vehicle they noticed two people milling around it. John and Wanda became cautious as they neared it.

"Petey!" John yelled and hugged the big man when he recognized him. A few DVD's fell to the ground. John bent down to scoop them up. "What are you doin' 'ere, mate? I'd figure you want to stay with Remy at the shindig in the music store."

"You remember I do not like crowds very much," Piotr reminded his comrade. "I wish to take the automobile after dropping you to off at the base. Kitty would like a ride to the Institute and Rogue is staying at work."

"Why are you asking me? I'm not the boss man. Give the Sheila a ride wherever she wants." John winked. Out of the corner of his eye she saw Kitty blush. John reached into his pants pocket and pulled out Pulp Fiction, Monty Python and the Holy Grail, and the keys. After handing the keys to Piotr, John opened the back door and started unloading the DVDs from his body onto the seat. Wanda got into the back seat on the other side.

Kitty, who had taken shotgun, turned around in her seat to look at the pile of movies John had taken from Blockmuster. "Those still have the security strip in them."

"Yes, thanks!" John reached forward and pulled a tool from the pocket on the back of the driver's seat. "I almost forgot." He used the tool to pull out the yellow strips.

Kitty asked, "Where did you get that?"

"Remy snatched it from the Sixth Street store."

"Don't you feel bad about stealing all those movies?" the girl with the moral compass asked.

John blinked. "Not one bit, have you seen what they charge? I don't have zaks spilling out of my pockets. Besides I'm not stealing them, per say. I have every intention of returning them." Then he added, "Most of 'em."

Kitty turned back in her seat and sighed. When she looked up she noticed a gapping hole in the roof with streamers and Mardi Gras beads hanging from it. Well, if I had any doubt that Peter was exaggerating his stories about his roommates, it's gone now.

---

Piotr pulled the automobile up to the front doors of the Institute and turned off the engine.

"Thanks so much for the ride, Piotr!" Kitty bubbled and grabbed her bag. "I'll call you later this week and let you know how the project went over." She jumped out of the door without opening it.

Behind her Piotr restarted the vehicle but decided to wait until she was safely inside before leaving. How sweet, she thought as she walked up the steps. She never made it to the front doors. At that second there was a major exodus of New Mutants. Kitty froze and phased in fear as Bobby, Sam, Ray, and Roberto came rushing out the doors at full speed.

"You aren't going anywhere!" Bobby shouted as he froze the tires of the Acolyte vehicle to the ground. The four boys cheered triumphantly and headed to the driver's side of the vehicle. They were surprised to see Piotr sitting in the driver's seat.

"Uh, ya ain't Kurt and Evan," Sam stated the obvious. At that moment everyone heard Scott's convertible start up and peal out of the garage. The boys mumbled a rushed apology to the Acolyte as they sped to head off the sport's car Kurt and Evan were hijacking.

Kitty was still trying to figure out what was going on when Amara came out of the mansion, hurriedly but not rushed. "Like, what got into them?" she asked the other girl.

"Kurt and Evan are going to Rogue's party at work, and they are trying to leave without us, even though the Professor said we could go," Amara reported the atrocity to the valley girl. "Just a minute," she excused herself before going on. The New Mutant concentrated on the ground and in front of the convertible she was able to make a gentle makeshift curve to direct the boys back to the mansion. Kurt and Evan yelled out in fright as the convertible made the turn like it was a race car. Magma was able to direct the car all of the way back to the mansion by turning the driveway into a large luge of sorts. Once the older mutants had given up, Amara turned to Kitty once again. "Are you going to the party?"

"No, I'm pooped," Kitty gave her lame excuse.

Amara looked to the handsome mutant who had gotten out of his vehicle to study his frozen tires, "Pooped, huh? I can't imagine what you were doing all day with a sweet handsome Russian."

Kitty hit her in the arm. "Amara! We were working on my art project."

The princess shrugged. "Sure." She gave Kitty the 411 on the mansion. "Jamie's still here, Logan's disappeared for the night, Storm is up in the attic communing with her plants, Hank's down in the lab, and the Professor locked himself in his study a half hour ago and has been on the phone ever since. Catch you later, Kitty." The girl bounded down the steps to the convertible where Sam, Roberto, Ray, and Bobby were arguing over the seating arrangements and who had to sit on who's lap. Kurt wished Evan had actually passed his driver's test so that he wasn't the only licensed driver there. Now he would have to drop everyone off before going to pick up Amanda. But at least he got to drive the shiny convertible again.

"Amara?" Piotr stopped the girl before she got into the car. "I remember that you can make heat. Would you melt the ice from my tires so I may leave please?"

The meddling princess looked from Piotr to the car to Kitty on the front porch, she grinned devilishly. "No, I have to go. Have fun with Kitty. Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" She hopped into the crammed car, removed her obstacles, and the crew took off.

Piotr sighed. Kitty blushed and shook her head. "You hungry?" she called. The Russian nodded. "Come on in."

---

A well established coupled looked out from around an alley corner at Vinyl Vintage. The crowd was just as rambunctious as earlier, but the police maintained a clear path from the street to the front doors of the store. They could tell the party had already started: most of the lights were off and a strong baseline could be heard across the street.

"I think you should go in all blue." Amanda pressed the button on his image inducer. Now instead of a skinny, pale German exchange student, Kurt Wagner was a fuzzy blue German elf.

"Vhat do you think you're doing?" Kurt panicked and turned the inducer back on. "Those people beat Rogue up for being a normal looking mutant. Do you know vhat they are going to do if they see me?"

"But the whole point of tonight is to protest their protest," Amanda argued. "This is the perfect time to go as your true blue self." She reached over to his wrist and turned off his inducer again.

Yet again Kurt hurried to turn it back on. "No, I'm not going to. You don't know vhat it's like."

"Tell me then," she encouraged as she slyly brushed his fuzzy arm and turned off his inducer again.

"Vhy did I ever show you how to work this thing?" Kurt asked himself as he turned it back on. "I'm just not ready for the mobs again. Not here. Back in Germany, I couldn't go out in the daytime vithout people chasing after me vith pitch forks and torches. Here I don't have to be afraid. I don't vant to go through that all over again."

"I'm sorry, Kurt," she reached up and touched his face. "But someday you will have to come out from behind that thing," she pointed to his inducer, "And when you do, always remember that you are the cutest, most lovable, little elf in the world and don't let them change that." She sighed and looked to she side. "But today doesn't have to be that day." She linked arms with Kurt in his human looking guise and they walked across the street.

---

After watching Young Frankenstein followed by Death to Smoochy, John put in another selection. About five minutes into The Princess Bride, the two lovebirds on the couch in the common room were shaken by the front door slamming. There were uneven footsteps, a bang, drunken laughter, then growling.

"Toothy and Monkey-man are home," John announced.

The two stumbled past the common room. Sabertooth paused and did a double take. For the first time in a week, he was able to see John. He dropped his inebriated friend onto the floor and burst into the room.

He roared and grabbed John by the scruff of the neck, pulling him out from under Wanda.

"Hey, what's the deal?!" John was surprised that Sabertooth was able to attack him. The large cat turned the boy around to face him. St. John caught a glimpse of Jason passed out on the floor in the hallway. Oh great. John decided that he had to take action, and he kicked the beast as hard as he could in the stomach. Sabertooth belched and the firebug got a good whiff of cheep beer.

"Toothy!" John made an awful face as he chided, "What have I told you about American beer?"

Wanda realized that her boyfriend was no match for the older savage mutant. "Hey, ugly!" She stood up on the sofa and shouted, "Get your own pyromaniac!" She used her power to fling the coffee table at him. The table just broke into two pieces along his back, one half flying out into the hallway, narrowly missing Jason. Sabertooth did drop John, who from his new position on the floor, was able to kick the hairy man in the shins. As Sabertooth grabbed his legs in pain, John scrambled over to Wanda on the couch. "So you got a plan?"

Sabertooth recovered and picked up the other half of the coffee table and tossed it at the two. They both ducked and the coffee table hit the entertainment center, knocking the DVD player to the floor where the insides became the outsides.

"HEY! We were watching a movie!" John exclaimed and used the flames from some candles he had lit to chase Sabertooth from the room. The cat took two steps toward the door then rooted himself. The pyromaniac made his fire encircle Sabertooth.

Sabertooth crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. "You don't have the guts."

Pyro started laughing maniacally. Sabertooth felt a breeze and looked behind him. Pyro had made him a pair of chaps and removed all the hair from his buttocks as well. Sabertooth ran through the fire rope and charged the sofa. They both dove to opposite sides of the room. The Scarlet Witch grabbed a brass bust that was sitting on an end table and smashed it over Sabertooth's head, successfully knocking him out.

The Witch looked down at the statue in her hand and read the name plate. "A brass bust of Hans Christian Oersted? Didn't he write The Little Mermaid?" (9)

"Maggie's taste, not mine." John summoned all his strength to pull Sabertooth off the couch. "I'm gonna need your help to get this guy back to his room." Wanda walked over and grabbed his other arm. When they got the body to hallway, they set him down to rest.

"Isn't there any place closer we can dump him?" the girl asked as she kicked Jason, who was trying to snuggle up to her leg. The telepath made some funny noises and turned toward the cold, lonely wall.

John smiled. "Now that I think about it..." Five minutes later they were back outside the common room with Sabertooth's body safely stored in the Lucky Charms stocked pantry. (10)

"Go to your room, Jason," John told the wasted man on the floor. Surprisingly, he heard John and managed to stumble to his hands and knees and crawl toward the sleeping quarters. "Wow, it worked." He laughed. His smile faded as Jason vomited just past the door to his own room. "Ewww.....no, Jason. Your room!" The fire boy panicked when he saw the man turn around and try to open the door to the pyromaniac's room. John decided to take decisive action and made a fire sheepdog to herd the man into the correct room.

"So where were we?" John asked Wanda as he settled himself down next to her on the couch in the common room.

"We were watching the movie, but that overgrown hair ball wrecked the DVD player," Wanda complained.

"No worries, luv." John stood up and relit the candles and made a little fire ball of his own. He split the ball into three smaller ones and then formed three men: a giant, a swordsman, and a conniving little man. "I know the movie by heart." He sat back down on the couch and continued to act out the movie with his fire people and funny voices. Wanda stared at her companion. Then she smiled and laid down, putting her head on his chest.

She watched John's play for several minutes before she noticed he was getting a little hoarse. He had just gotten to the battle of wits.

"'It has worked! You've given everything away! I know where the poison is!'" John said in his best Wallace Shawn voice. He dropped his voice and said very urgently, "'Then make your choice.'" Back to Wallace Shawn: "'I will! And I choose... What in the world can that be?!'" John pointed off to the side as well as his fire Vizzini.

Wanda took that moment and turned around. She put her head between John's and his creatures. "Me," she stated and smiled seductively.

John looked confused. "No, you aren't in this movie. You're confusing this with "The Peek-a-boo Babes.""

Her eyes narrowed. "I hate you, you pervert."

"I know you do." He smiled. "I know you are just playing with my emotions until Remy gives up on Rogue."

"Remy? You've got to be kidding." Wanda was disgusted at the pairing. "He probably has more STD's than that Playboy mansion guy."

"Petey?"

"A bit slow on the uptake."

"It looks like you're stuck with me then," John told her.

"Or that Jason guy," Wanda teased. (11)

"The creepy monkey-man?!" the firebug exclaimed. "But he's a pansy, not to mention old!"

"Are you saying you have more to offer me?" She played with the collar of his shirt then looked up into his eyes and smirked.

He returned her glaze, extinguished his Princess Bride fire creatures and kissed her.

---

"Just a little lower." Rogue directed as Remy massaged her back. She was lying on her stomach on the register counter as Remy sat on the stool trying to work out her knots.

"Don' tempt me." Remy smirked at his innuendo.

"Does your mind ever come outta the gutter?" she asked.

"Non," he reflected, "I d'ink it has set up permanent residence d'ere. Low property taxes, you know."

"They'd have ta be low since the people who live there spend all their money on booze an' pornography," she commented.

"Sounds like you have some personal experience o' livin' in de gutter," he teased.

"No, but ah have lived in the Brotherhood house an' that is pretty close." She lifted her head off her folded arms and turned it so she was looking out at the store instead of behind the counter at Remy. Not many people had made it all the way into the store for the counter-protest. The New Mutants, Kurt, Amanda, Evan, Tabby and a couple of random mutants she dragged along with her were the only ones. They had seen several others try and make it, but their devotion to the cause wasn't great enough to make it by the mob and their rotten vegetables and stale coffee. Rogue thought she had seen the girl Suzy and a boy with multicolored hair try and come in, but turn around when they faced the resistance. On the bright side, they got press, and the ones that had made it inside weren't about to let the mob have their way with Vinyl Vintage. They were having a good time grooving to Sly's musical selections. "What do ya think o' all o' this?" Rogue finally asked Remy.

"All of what, chere?" Remy asked.

"The protest, humans vs. mutants, the 'inevitable war' as your boss puts it," Rogue clarified. She pushed herself up into a sitting position and turned back to Remy.

The boy shrugged. "I've seen a lot o' horrors in my life, done by both mutants an' humans. As much as I hope dat it doesn' end it war, I can' imagine any other way it could end. An' I'm not one ta be compliant. I don' plan to sit by."

The goth had been listening intently before she turned away and looked outside again. "Ah know whatcha mean. It's hard ta imagine that those people outside could be your happy neighbors who let ya borrow their lawn mower. But, Ah think, that Ah'll always have that hope inside meh. Some days it shines brighter than others. Ah think that is why Ah've stayed at the Institute so long. Ah coulda gone back ta the Brotherhood after Mystique left, but Ah didn't. Ah coulda gone back ta Irene, or runaway an' tried ta make it on mah own, but Ah stayed. As annoying an' frustrating as it can be ta live there, it makes meh stronger. All those people there with hope. Makes meh believe that the world won' end up one big dead crater. Not with people like that." She ended her speech and pulled her knees into her chest. Rogue rested her head on her knees and tried to read the Cajun's expression.

"Idealism is a catchy d'ing," he said finally. "Somethin' worth fightin' for."

"But not fo' you," she pried.

Remy sighed again. He couldn't say that he hated the serious talks they had. On the contrary, that is one of the reasons he liked talking with Rogue so much. She didn't let him sidestep anything. Not if it was truly important. It made him think about his life and the choices he had made, which hurt because of all the mistakes he had made. He had never really made himself face any of it. He just closed the door and wished that he never had to look back. She was the first person he had told about the almost-wedding since it happened. But there were some things about his past that he couldn't face just yet. He couldn't say them out loud because as long as they remained only in his memory, he could deny their reality. He could look the other way. Telling someone made them real. He wasn't ready for that. "I'm not much o' an idealist anymore," he said finally.

"Ya said ya had hope," she threw back at him. Not in a condensing or angry manner, but in a yearning one. One that seeks the truth.

"My hope is a bit overshadowed by my reality," he told her, hoping that she would leave it at that.

"But it is still there," she declared.

Was it? he asked himself. He was there, wasn't he? That counted for something. He wasn't off playing war games or moving Risk pieces around the globe. When the crowd surrounded him, picked him up, and tossed him through the window, why didn't he fight back? Why didn't he use his powers? Because I knew I could really hurt someone an' I have more respect fo' human life d'an d'at. "Oui, deep down. Hiding under a huge rock."

"Remy?" He could tell Rogue was preparing to ask a big question. "If ya have this hope, then why are ya workin' fo' Magneto?"

There it was. The question that would open up a big can of worms. How could he answer it? He didn't want to lie, but he wasn't ready to make those things real yet. He looked around skittishly for the answer. "It's complicated," was the angle he chose.

"Ya can tell meh, Remy." She looked him straight in the eye. "Looks like ah got all night," she gestured to the protesters making camp outside.

Again, Remy avoided her glaze and shifted his weight. How can one fille make me d'is nervous?

"Is he blackmailin' ya or somethin'?" Rogue asked, remembering what Logan had heard about Piotr.

"No, no," he answered. "It's not dat. It's. . . he got me outta a bad fix, dat's all. I feel I owe 'em," he partially lied. He just couldn't face reality, not this night.

"When will ya stop 'owin' 'em?'" she asked with a rebellious tinge to her voice.

It sparked a little stubbornness in his own manner,."When I'm good an' ready."

"Ya're already good, Remy," Rogue told him sincerely.

"Oh, look, Ashley an' Ania are at each other's throats again." Remy pointed to the pair across the room.

"They've been fightin' all day," Rogue didn't want to let the subject drop, but the argument reaching her ears felt like it had reached a breaking point. "Don' think you're gettin' off easy, swamp rat," she shook her finger at him before turning her attention to the girls. "This isn' the last ya heard 'bout this from meh."

"Why don't you just go back to Canada?" Ashley yelled at Ania.

"Why should I, you slut monkey!" Ania shouted.

"Because you belong there!" Ashley feigned sympathy. "Or did they not want you either?"

Sly tried to intervene, although he was a little turned on by having two hot chicks kind of fight over him. "Girls, knock it off. This is stupid."

"No, you have me and Canada confused with you and Sly." Ania ignored her boyfriend's attempts at peace. This is ending tonight. She set her jaw determinedly.

"Oh, please." Ashley discarded the insult with her hand. "You can't fill my shoes. In a couple weeks, he'll be crawling back to me."

A disgusted Sly tried to interject, but he was cut off by his girlfriend. "How delusional are you, eh? He dumped you and insults you every chance he gets. You really are the dullest dolphin in the socket!"

"What does that even mean, you babbling bimbo?"

"I'm not the one who dyes her hair blonde to match her intelligence!" (12)

"At least I didn't have a hundred holes punched in my head to draw attention away from extra ones that formed there naturally!" Ashley alluded to the many piercings of the other girl.

"That's it!" Ania whipped off her slave bracelets and other chains attached to her body. "I'm sick of this alpha female snippy shit! Men don't have this problem, they just kick the crap out of each other and whoever wins, wins."

"What are you ranting about now?" the girl asked.

Ania didn't answer; she pounced on the non-blonde. Ashley yelped in surprise and the New Mutants gathered around and oohhed, and awwed as shoes and hair went flying.

---

The door to Magneto's "Top Secret Headquarters" slammed. Sounds of heavy luggage being dragged along a steel floor could be heard if anyone was paying attention, but they weren't. Magneto was beyond angry. He had waited two entire hours for one of his henchmen to pick him up at the airport. He couldn't just fly himself and his luggage back to the base for fear of magnetizing and ruining his new Etch-a-Sketches and equipment he had purchased at the conference. He had demagnetized his hotel room card four times before he realized how careful he had to be using his powers with his key card in his pocket. On the plus side, he got to see a lot of the cute desk clerk. Unbeknownst to him, she thought he was and creepy old imbecile who kept magnets in his pockets.

Didn't any of my servants get the message I left on the answering machine?!

------Earlier that day------

"REMY!" John yelled from Sabertooth's room where he was constructing a web of yarn throughout the room. "The phone is ringing!" Although Jason's room was closer, he chose not to disturb the hungover telepath. No hungover person was chipper when they were awoken prematurely, but telepaths seemed to be especially vengeful. He might end up on the roof declaring he was a golden god before jumping into a nonexistent swimming pool (13). The telephone continued to ring. "REMY!!" The phone rang again. John sighed and headed out of the big cat's room dragging several trails of different yarn tails behind him. He passed two ringing phones to the Cajun's quarters. He opened the door, "Remy the phone is ringing!" A charged pop bottle came flying at John's head. Luckily he was able to close the door fast enough to prevent any permanent damage. To himself anyway. The door was another matter entirely. Remy groaned and rolled over in bed.

"Huh, PIOTR!" John shut the door to Remy's room and headed to the Russian's. "PETEY! Could you get the phone?! I'm a bit wrapped up at the moment!" Piotr's head popped out of his room, he took one look at the Aussie and sighed.

"The point of a practical joke is to inconvenience the other person, is it not?" Piotr, who knew of John's plans for the morning, asked the troublemaker.

"Do not criticize my art," he replied sternly.

Piotr shook his head. By then the phone had stopped ringing and the answering machine had picked up. Together they marched to the kitchen where the machine was. There was a red number three blinking at them.

Piotr leaned over the table and scrutinized the equipment. "Do you know how to get the machine to speak?" the Russian asked his comrade.

"Sure, you push the button on the thing." John waved his yarn covered arms around as far as he could.

"Which button?"

"The circle one," the Aussie answered.

"Are you positive?" Piotr's large finger loomed above the answering machine.

"Yes." John paused as Piotr pressed the button. "Then again, no, not really."

It was too late. "Record your new greeting after the tone," the machine said. "Beep!"

"New greeting? What does that mean?" Piotr curiously asked.

"We don't want a new greeting!!" John exclaimed and jumped up and down. "It took us years to get the first one right!

Make it stop! Make it stop!" The yarn person wobbled around.

"How?!" Piotr was not equally agitated. His fingers again hovered above the machine and its symbols and buttons and blinking lights.

"Press the button! Press the button!"

"Which button?!"

"That one!!" John flung a yarn end at the buttons.

Piotr closed his eyes and pressed one of the three buttons the yarn had passed over.

"NOT THAT ONE!" John yelled.

The machine spoke again. "Message one erased. To erase all messages press the delete button."

"What button!?" Piotr's hand moved over the machine faster and more nervously.

"No, no, no!" John desperately tried to move his hand out of his yarn web to reach the answering machine. "Press this button!" John made a grab at one of the buttons but hit the wrong one.

"The day is Monday." The calm voice of the machine paused. "Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Monday -"

"Why is it still speaking?!" the Russian exclaimed.

"The button is stuck! Unstick the button!" John suggested.

"WHICH BUTTON?!" Piotr grew frustrated. The machine repeated the days over and over again only irritated him further.

He then randomly pressed another button, "To customize your answering option -" He knew that wasn't the right one, so he pressed another one. "Record your new greeting after the tone." Then another: "To accept this greeting press -" Then another: "Wednesday, Thursday -" Then another: "Hello Mr. Magnus Caesar, you have been chosen -" and then a few more: "Message two erased... All messages have been erased."

Piotr looked to St. John. "I won't tell if you won't, mate."

The Russian looked down at the fragile piece of technology that had conquered him. SMASH, he brought his metal fist down hard on the answering machine. BEEP..EP...ep.

"Why'd you go and do that?" John asked him. "Now we have to tell."

Piotr turned and glared at him. "No, we do not."

"I get it," John smirked and nodded. "'We didn't see anything.' 'What answering machine?' 'We had an answering machine?'"

John was laughing when Remy groggily dragged himself into the kitchen. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "What was all de yellin' 'bout?"

"What yelling? There was no yelling," St. John declared.

Remy blinked then waved his hand dismissing his argument. "Whatever you say. Who was on de phone, anyway?"

"What phone? We don't have any phone," John said quickly. "What's a phone?"

"You broke it, didn' you?" Remy looked at his teammates.

"No, the phone is not broken," Piotr honestly stated.

"D'en what's dat over d'ere?" Remy pointed to the pancake shaped electronics on the counter.

"What are you talking about, Remy?" John tried to play dumb some more. "There isn't anything over there."

Piotr rolled his eyes, he knew he had ben caught but didn't see a problem with Remy knowing what happened. "That was the answering machine."

"Rogue didn' call, did she?" The flirt asked as he contemplated a breakfast of coffee and toast or coffee and cereal.

The other two henchmen shared a nervous glance over Remy's head. Neither of them had any idea what the first and third messages were. "Uh, no. No, Rogue did not call," Piotr managed to lie.

"Good," the Cajun yawned. The other boys breathed a sigh of relief. John assumed his job was done and walked carefully back to Sabertooth's room, and Piotr unceremoniously dumped the trouble making machine in the trash and searched the cupboards for breakfast.

------------- End "Earlier that day" --------------

The lights in most of the base were out, only a few candles were lit. Almost to the common room, Magneto's shin struck an over-turned coffee table. Well half of a coffee table anyway. After a few curses, Magneto stumbled to the light switch in the common room. Artificial light flooded the room, but the couple making out on the couch barely noticed.

"Gambit, what did I tell you about -" the boss started his lecture. The girl on top sat up when she heard his voice. Her top was undone and a black lacy bra shown through. Then Magneto got a clear vision of who the disheveled girl was over the back of the sofa. "WANDA?!" he squinted just to make sure his eyes weren't playing tricks on him. Wanda and Gambit?! Magneto was very confused.

"Father." She froze the air with the word as she quickly planned her attack.

"Father?!" St. John with his hair more messy than usual and lipstick on his face neck and chest sat up sharply now in Magneto's eye line. For the first time, he realized that Wanda's father and Magneto, his boss, was the same man. "I'm dead," he gulped.

Magneto also had a disturbing revelation at that moment: Wanda and PYRO!!!!

---

(1) From the MTV cartoon Daria.
(2) The only decent scene in the wretched movie Jeepers Creepers was when they repeatedly ran over the monster thing. But, unfortunately for them, he had one heart more than they crushed. Don't watch this movie EVER, if you can help it. You have been forewarned.
(3) This might be just me, the poli-sci minor, but I am greatly curious about what will happen to Cuba after Castro finally kicks the bucket. I'm hoping I'll be alive to see it. Not that I'm old or anything, less than a quarter of a century, but that guy has some long lease on life. It amazes me. Sometimes I wonder if Dr. Livingstin was wrong and the Fountain of Youth is in Cuba not Florida or Congo or wherever he got lost.
(3.5) Reference to Frank Millar's Sin City the movie. I have never seen so many castrations in a two hour period. Not a required viewing.
(4) In reference to The Godfather. I watched the first and second ones. Never made it to the third. The second was too horrible. At least the first one had the cannoli joke ("Leave the gun, take the cannolis."). When going to the west side to take care of "a job" aka killing someone, Clemenza's wife ordered him to bring cannolis back for her.
(5) Funny Face: 1957 starring Fred Astaire and Audrey Hepburn. I usually like Audrey Hepburn movies, but this one....let's put it this way: I fell asleep for about twenty minutes in the middle, woke up and it was still as bad as it was when I lost consciousness. Plus Fred Astaire is WAY too old for Audrey Hepburn. He wasn't 102, only 58, but that is over twice her age. Now Charade, on the other hand, is the best Audrey Hepburn movie. Yes, Cary Grant is much older than her too, but only by like 25 years and he wears them much better. Plus they make fun of how much older he is in the movie.
(6) Barbie=Barbeque

(6.5) The first window was broken Chapter 18 – I'm a dead cat too.
(7) Michael Jackson's "Beat It," from the 1982 Thriller Album.
(8) This is John's butchering of Nena's "99 Luftballoons" or "99 Red Balloons" from the original German lyrics. AKA I listened to the German version and screwed it up real good.
(9) Wanda is confusing Hans Christian Oersted with Hans Christian Anderson, the author/playwright. Hans Christian Oersted was a Danish scientist who studied magnetism and electric currents in the 1800's.
(10) Does anyone else find it unbelievable in the movie Signs when M. Night Shamalon locks the alien in the pantry and it actually contains him there for several hours?
(11) Back in the comics when Scarlet Witch was in the Brotherhood, both Toad and Mastermind were obsessed with her.
(12) For any of you blondes who might be insulted by this, I am a natural blonde. That is why I can say it. So suck it up and laugh.
(13) Scene from Almost Famous.

---

A/N: So there you go! Only one more chapter and an epilogue. Although the epilogue is three parts now. More the fun!

Does anyone know where I can get transcripts or download (preferably for free) episodes "Self-possessed" and "Under Lock and Key"?

For all those interested, I just started a forum in the XME area. Right now I have a thread where you can apply to have your Jonda put in my C2 collection. That's the important one. I also have one where you can talk about my soon-to-be-Nine-to-Five-series. I will comment minimally on that one. It's mostly for you. And a thread where you can discuss the good, the bad, and the ugly, of the Jonda couple.