A/N- thank you all for your wonderful reviews! Please keep them coming, I really enjoy reading my praises :) That is all.
"Well," Kitty announced to the room after opening the door with extra flourish and a wide grin, "You'll be happy to know that I've got three quarters of my rent money together."
Pyro grunted in vague acknowledgement from his apparent permanent spot on the couch with the Xbox controller glued to his hand.
She closed the door behind her as Remy glanced up quickly from cleaning up his lunch in the kitchen, "Just three quarters?"
"Yeah," She shrugged out of her rain coat and hung it in the hall closet, "The blood bank only lets you donate so much blood a month... legal reasons or something. I don't know, it's dumb if you ask me. And I don't have any other bodily fluids to donate. You guys are so lucky..."
Piotr looked up from his spot on the arm chair in front of the balcony window, letting his sketch book drop to his lap with a frown, "I thought you were going to pick up your last pay check. It was not enough?"
She let out a sigh and leaned against the chair across from Piotr, "That didn't go exactly as planned, so I kind of had to improvise."
"What do you mean it 'didn't go as planned'?" Remy stopped drying the sink and eyed her.
She rolled her eyes and shrugged, "Well I went. But he informed me that he was charging me for the broken ketchup bottle and the customers bill and that I didn't have any money left over. Apparently the little prick who got me fired, jacked up his bill, and technically I now owe the diner money. Anyways, he said if I didn't leave right away, he'd call the cops because I was trespassing. And since I don't exactly have any money for bail, I didn't really want to pull at that thread."
Pyro looked up from the TV at Kitty with wide eyes, "Are you kidding me? You're a bloody doormat, Sheila!"
"What was I gunna do? He was going to call the cops!"
"On what grounds?" Remy rolled his eyes, "You were there asking for your pay check, you wouldn't have been arrested for that."
"Well..." Kitty tipped her nose up, "I didn't know that..."
"You want me to go back for ya?" Pyro's eyes glimmered with the prospect of inflicting property damage, "I can burn that diner down to a pile of ashes in a matter of minutes."
"No." Remy said firmly, and Pyro's excitement wilted a little. Remy looked back to Kitty and set his jaw, "You have to go back and get your money."
"Don't worry about it, I'll get my rent money-"
"This isn't about your rent money. This is about your damn back bone, petite. You don't stand up for yourself once in a while, people are just gunna walk all over you."
Kitty put a hand on her hip and narrowed her eyes, "I have a back bone. I talked my way into moving in here, didn't I?"
"That's true..." Remy said, staring at the ground between them as he stroked his chin thoughtfully.
"I just didn't want to start a ruckus, you know? It's only half a paycheck anyways." Kitty shrugged, walking around the chair to flop down on it with her legs hanging over the arm.
"I am going to have to agree with Remy, Katya." Piotr closed his sketch book and knit his brow, "You should not let him treat you this way."
"Well, what am I gunna do?"
"You could burn the place down." Pyro grinned with that same maniacal twinkle. "I could burn the place down..."
"I have an idea." Remy hung the dish rag back on it's hook and made his way into the living room, taking a seat on the coffee table in front of Kitty, who was eying him warily, "Do you trust me?"
She snorted by means of response and he smirked.
"I'll need everyone's help."
"I'm in." Pyro grinned with anticipation, "What's your plan, Danny Ocean?"
Remy looked back over his shoulder at Pete who was adamantly shaking his head.
"I do not want a part of this."
"Come on..." Remy knit his brow at Pete and he threw a hand towards Kitty, "She needs us."
Kitty's lower lip stuck out in a pathetic pout, and Piotr continued to shake his head, "Your ideas are always illegal. I do not want to put my career on the line, criminal records are frowned upon."
"You're so pessimistic." Remy scoffed, "We never get caught."
"Never?" Piotr set his mouth in a thin line and Remy shrugged,
"Almost never. But this time it's for a good cause." He reached out and squeezed Kitty's cheeks in his hand and grinned at Piotr to make his point. "Look at this face. How can you resist this face?"
"I will go talk to your boss, if you'd like." Piotr fixed his eyes on Kitty's once Remy had released her face from his hold, "I am sure I could reason with him..."
Remy scowled and waved Piotr's pathetic offer to help off, but Kitty held up her hand, "Hang on, he might be onto something." She said, swinging her legs around so she was sitting upright in the arm chair, "My former employer happens to be incredibly gay."
"We could use that..." Remy squinted at Piotr and scratched the scruff on his chin as he processed this new information.
"He'd be the distraction..." Pyro stroked his chin, "I like that."
"Remy should do it," Piotr tossed his sketch book onto the coffee table and began shaking his head again, "You are the one who is always bragging about getting tips from gay men." He pointed a finger at Remy who pursed his lips,
"Yes, but I need to be somewhere else. I can't be expected to do everything."
"That's why it's called Ocean's Eleven." Pyro clarified with an eye roll, "He works in a team."
"Then make Pyro do it." Piotr knit his brow.
"No, that wouldn't work. Kevin is totally into bears." Kitty explained with a wave of her hand.
"... The animal?" Piotr grimaced.
"No, silly. Macho types. I can't tell you how many times I've seen him hitting on random truckers. It's a wonder that man hasn't had his face beaten in before, but somehow he gets away with it."
"Hear that? You're his type." Pyro smirked.
"Except you don't have any facial hair..." Kitty narrowed her eyes as she inspected Piotr carefully, "I'm sure we can make due though, he'd probably trip all over himself like a little ballerina if a big Russian artist struck up a conversation."
"Perfect," Remy slapped his knee, turning back to Kitty with an air of professionalism, "Now let's iron out the rest of the details."
"Wait, I have not agreed to help." Piotr frowned at Remy.
"You want Kitty to get her money, right?" Remy asked with his eyebrows arched.
"Yes-"
"And you don't think she's being treated fairly, do you?"
"No, but-"
"You don't want to help her at all? Not even just a little bit? Be a big hero? Rescue the damsel in distress on your white stallion...?"
Piotr squared his jaw and stared daggers at Remy,
"I can understand if you're a little homophobic. It takes someone incredibly secure in their masculinity to hit on another man." Remy conceded with a smirk and Piotr's frown grew,
"You are trying to manipulate me."
"Yep." Remy grinned. "Is it working?"
Piotr let out a deep breath and shook his head, "If the police show up, do not expect me to hang around. I will act like I do not know you, you are on your own."
"Perfect!" Kitty clapped her hands together and hopped out of her seat, "Let's go dress you gay!"
Piotr's shoulders sagged and he sighed, standing reluctantly to follow the buoyant girl to his room.
She had his closet open by the time the three guys reached Piotr's room and was already sorting through the possibilities.
"I do not know exactly how you expect me to dress gay." Piotr knit his brow, watching as Kitty reefed through his closet.
"Just trust me, okay? I know these things. I watch TV." Kitty pulled out a shirt and frowned before putting it back. "Plus, I know Kevin's type. Our first option would be to draw a mustache on you with an eyeliner pencil-"
Remy rolled his eyes and stepped past Piotr into the room, "That's stupid, petite. Have you never put together a disguise before?"
"I said it was our first option, not our best option." Kitty snapped, "Our second option is to stick with the Village People."
Piotr knit his brow in confusion and glanced at Pyro who was watching with great interest, "Village People?"
"Yeah," Kitty nodded, pulling a blue button up shirt from the closet for closer inspection, "You know, YMCA. Macho Man. Those guys. Obviously, you can't be the Indian. And the S&M guy isn't exactly the look we're going for..."
"Plus, he has to have the mustache for the S&M guy." Pyro pointed out from the doorway and Kitty nodded in agreement.
"The cop is too... I don't know... male stripper. That leaves us with the army guy, the cowboy and the construction worker." She hung the blue shirt back up and moved to his dresser, pulling the top drawer open to continue her search for the perfect outfit. "I see you're a boxer man."
Piotr pushed the drawer shut and narrowed his eyes at her, "Where is this village?"
"Probably somewhere in San Fransisco." Pyro snorted from the peanut gallery and Kitty rolled her eyes,
"You're honestly telling me right now that you've never heard of the Village People."
Piotr gave her a shrug and she raised her eyebrows dramatically, "Geeze, I wasn't aware that Russia was located under a rock."
"Please just," Piotr rubbed his forehead with his finger tips and squeezed his eyes shut, "Explain."
"Okay, well, the Village People were this musical group from the 70s. They're totally like, cliche macho men, if you will. They each had their own super rugged, manly career oriented look. I don't think we could get away with a Russian cowboy." She turned to Remy who shrugged in apparent agreement with her assessment before she went back to searching through Piotr's drawers.
"You will not find something in there." He watched as she sifted through his neatly folded clothing, "That is where I keep my painting shirts."
"Perfect!" Kitty lifted out a black shirt splattered with a bit of white paint that had obviously fused itself to the fabric, "Paint, from your grueling job painting houses."
Piotr looked down at the shirt in her hand and furrowed his brow, "That is oil paint..."
"Sure, we know that. But Kevin doesn't know that. For all he knows, it's from doing something super manly for a living. Like hammering up drywall, or building... buildings."
Piotr blinked at her for a moment before looking back at the t-shirt, "I still do not see-"
"Don't question me. Just put it on." She shoved the shirt towards him and he took it with a sigh, quickly swapping out shirts. When he was finished, Kitty was giving him a big goofy grin. "It's perfect."
Pyro crossed his arms and considered Piotr's shirt carefully, "That's a tight shirt, mate."
"That is why I paint in it." Piotr snapped irritably. "I do not wear it out."
"Well, you are tonight big guy." She patted his chest, patting a little slower than necessary on his pectorals before nodding with approval, "Wow, those are hard."
"Alright," Remy took Kitty by the shoulders and moved her out of the way to get back down to work. "This will only work if you have the right attitude Pete. You need to make him think you're interested. You need to flirt."
"But not too much." Kitty added.
"No, not too much. You don't want him to think you're easy."
Pyro snorted out a laugh which he quickly squelched under Remy's hot glare.
"You want to show mild interest. Let him come to you." Kitty instructed, "Believe me, he will."
"And ignore any women who happen to be in the diner. Don't acknowledge them staring at you, just pretend they're not even there." Remy continued.
"That is assuming they will be staring." Piotr said with a wry grin.
Kitty smiled and let her gaze fall to the tight paint stained t-shirt, "Believe me, they will..."
"Make eye contact with him and smile." Remy went on, "Let your gaze linger on him just a little longer than naturally comfortable."
"Make sure you keep smiling. Laugh at his jokes, they'll be stupid, but chuckle at them anyways." Kitty piped in.
"You need to have him totally and completely engaged in you, and only you. His eyes need to be locked onto yours." Remy cut in again. "If this is going to work, you need to be 100% distracting."
"I know how to flirt," Piotr discreetly rolled his eyes, "I am the one with a date with a dancer..."
"Pure luck." Pyro scoffed, "You probably wouldn't have had enough nerve to say a word to any of them. I bet thirty bucks she did all the work. I'm tellin' you guys, this would be a lot easier if you just let me burn the place down."
"No fire." Remy said pointedly to Pyro.
"But if I just used a little bit of-"
"No fire." He repeated with slightly more force. "I have something in mind for you too, but you have to promise me, no fire."
Pyro scowled at the ground like a bratty toddler, "Fine."
"Good." Remy grinned at Kitty with a glimmer of excitement in his eye, "Then let's get this show on the road."