A/N- I apologize for the delay in update... I've fallen behind. But hopefully from now on, it'll be smooth sailing! :)
It was just after six o'clock when they parked across the road from the diner in Piotr's '99 Chevy Tahoe. Remy shifted the SUV into park and killed the engine, looking to his right with his lips set in a tight frown,
"You ready?"
"I guess." Piotr replied with a low level of enthusiasm.
"Everyone remembers the plan?" He looked over his shoulder at the two huddling forward in the back seat who nodded in unison.
"This won't take long right?" Kitty looked at the dashboard clock and smiled, "I have a date with Lance tonight. Oh God... what if he has to bail me out of jail..."
"He won't have to bail you out of jail, because we're not going to get caught." Remy stated with a frown. "Have some faith. Also, your boyfriend's name is Lance? That's a really stupid name."
"Really, Remy?" Kitty cocked an eyebrow, "You wanna go there?"
"This is gunna be great." Pyro grinned, rubbing his hands together, "Operation Ocean's Eleven is a-go!"
"Stop calling it that." Remy demanded.
"Well, unless you can think of a better thing to call it. It's perfect! You're George Clooney, tight shirt over there's Matt Damon," He jerked his head towards Kitty, "We got Julia Roberts here and obviously, I'm Brad Pitt."
"What?" Kitty scoffed, "Why am I Julia Roberts, I don't want to be Julia Roberts. She doesn't even do anything in the first movie. If anything I'm Brad Pitt."
Pyro snorted, "You're not Brad Pitt."
"No one is Brad Pitt..." Remy rolled his eyes and exchanged a pained look with Piotr.
"Um, I so am. I'm the one going into the heart of the casino with Danny Ocean. I'm Brad Pitt. You're like... Don Cheadle or something."
"Don Che-" He let out a deep breath, "How could you say that I'm Don flippin' Cheadle?"
"Don Cheadle got to blow things up, Pyro." Remy cut in, in an attempt to wind the argument up, "You like blowing things up."
Pyro pressed his lips together in consideration of this fact and nodded, "True..."
"Plus he's got that silly accent in the movie." Kitty added with a smirk.
He gave her a deep frown, "That's racist."
"Enough! Kitty, you're Julia Roberts. Pyro, you're Don Cheadle. I'm George Clooney and Pete is Brad Pitt. End of discussion." Remy said officially, bringing the argument to a close in spite of the two pouting in the back seat with this final verdict. "Could we focus please? Pyro, go."
Pyro puffed out a breath with a scowl etched on his face. He pushed his door open and turned back ruefully, "I'm Brad Pitt!" He shouted back over his shoulder, hurrying out before anyone could argue with him.
He hurried across the street, pushing the diner door open with a pleasant little ding announcing his arrival, and making his way over to the far back corner, directly beneath the diner's sole security camera as per Remy's instructions.
"I heard y'got really good fries here." He announced to the middle-aged female waitress who brought him a menu, "Is that true?"
"I don't know, I guess." She said with a non-committal shrug, waiting for him to order with her pen hovering over her note pad.
"I'll have a salad then." He winked, "With a side of fries. Gotta try 'em out, y'know?"
She nodded mutely as she scrawled his order down on her note pad,
"And some water. Thanks love." He grinned after her politely when she took his menu back and promptly left. "So bloody friendly." He grumbled under his breath, watching Piotr through the window as he crossed the street in his paint splattered tight black t-shirt and work boots which Kitty had forced him to wear. He pushed through the front door, instantly gaining some impressed stares and collective giggles from the table of young girls seated at the table by the door, but Piotr paid no mind, moving towards Pyro's end of the diner and taking a seat at the counter.
Kitty had described Kevin to the three of them, explaining that he looked like a young Steve Buscemi with better teeth and weirder eyes, so when a thin man in his mid thirties with slightly googly looking eyes came to a stop in front of Piotr, appearing as if out of nowhere with a coffee pot in hand and a grin on face, there was pretty much no mistaking that this was Kevin.
"What can I get you?" He asked as he casually rested a hand on the counter and leaned his weight against it.
"Just coffee for now, thank you." Piotr replied, doing his best to smile and keep eye contact. Which wouldn't have been so difficult if Kevin's left eye didn't appear to wander ever so slightly to the left.
"Wow, that's quite an accent." Kevin observed with a nod as he poured Piotr's coffee, "What is that, German?"
Piotr's polite grin strained and he shook his head slightly, "Russian."
"Ahh, long way from home."
"Yes." Piotr said with a nod, sliding the coffee towards himself, awkwardly ending the exchange between he and Kevin prematurely. He looked at his black coffee as he racked his mind for something else to say to keep Kevin preoccupied when the man replaced the coffee pot back in the machine and reached across the counter to touch some of the dried paint on Piotr's shirt.
"Is this paint? That's going to be a tough one to get out..." He asked as he invaded Piotr's personal space before standing upright with an apologetic smile, "I'm sorry, I see a stain and I can hear my mother screaming in my head."
"That is quite alright." Piotr grinned, "Yes, it is paint."
"From what?"
"I am in construction." Piotr lied as per Kitty's instructions.
Kevin's eyebrow quirked and he seemed to look intrigued as his eyes fell to Piotr's bicep, "Oh, well it's not a wonder you're in such good shape then..."
"I am sure carrying that coffee pot around all day keeps you fit as well." Piotr said, lifting the mug to the grin on his lips which caused Kevin to man giggle.
The waitress returned with Pyro's water, leaving a straw on the table next to the glass, distracting him momentarily delightful scene unfolding in front of him, much to his chagrin. He thanked the unfriendly waitress again and watched her walk away before picking up his napkin and dunking it into his glass of water as he watched Kevin continually found some excuse to touch Piotr's right bicep.
With the ease and grace of a seasoned professional, Pyro wadded the wet napkin up into a ball and prepared his shot in the small window of opportunity he had. He glanced up at the camera quickly before tossing the slimy ball up with expert precision, hitting the camera lens dead center. Bullseye.
All that Xbox playing had given him exemplary hand/eye coordination. He would have done a silent fist pump, but he reminded himself that he was Brad Pitt, and that his job was not yet finished.
With the camera disabled, Kitty and Remy would be able to enter through the wall farthest away from where Pyro sat without being spotted. He just needed to think of one more distraction.
So when the unfriendly waitress bustled her way towards him with his salad and side of fries in her hands, Pyro didn't feel entirely bad using her as the main distraction. She somehow managed to trip on a salt shaker, which mysteriously found its way directly in her path, sending both plates skyrocketing into the air before raining back down on her and clattering to the floor amongst a mess of fries and garden salad.
Everyone's attention was understandably drawn to the commotion, giving Kitty and Remy the perfect opportunity to phase in through the wall unnoticed. Kitty pulled Remy by the wrist through the counter, quickly past the kitchen, down the side hall which led to the back office.
"Watch the door. If anyone heads in this direction, let me know." Remy instructed before crossing the cramped office to the computer.
With the door slightly ajar, Kitty had a good line of sight down the hallway into the diner. She could see Pyro helping his server to her feet, picking lettuce off of her in the process and she could clearly hear him making a tossed salad joke.
"Got it." She whispered, giving Remy a thumbs up from across the room.
With a furrow on his brow, Remy went to work, furiously typing away at the keyboard. After a few minutes of silence, Kitty glanced back at him with a hopeful smile,
"How's it going there?"
"For a shitty little diner, they've got a damn good security system." He grumbled, "It's an easy enough task, you're still in the system so I just need to initiate a funds transfer But I can't get into the damn system. I'll get it. It'll just take a bit longer..."
"Hurry up." Kitty whispered, turning back to the hallway, "I'm not sure how much more flirting Pete can handle."
"I think I've got it." Remy said quietly, "I just have to re-route this signal..."
"Do you need a hand?" She asked impatiently, keeping her eye on the dining room.
Remy rolled his eyes, "This isn't Minesweeper, Kitty." He tapped away some more on the keyboard before letting out a frustrated grunt, "Shit!"
Kevin stepped into Kitty's line of sight, still chatting with Piotr, as he patted his chest pocket and glanced around quickly. She could hear him saying something about a pen, and then saying that he'd "Be right back" and her eyes grew wide with horror.
"Oh God, he's coming!" She hissed. "He's coming! He's coming!"
Remy flicked the monitor off and swiftly crossed the room, pulling Kitty behind the door and clamping a hand over her mouth. They could hear his footsteps echoing in the hall, getting closer and closer, and right about when they expected him to push the door open- WOOSH!
A bright orange glow momentarily lit up the office through the slightly open door. Kevin was distracted from his quest for a pen and had hurried into the kitchen to yell at the cook.
Kitty pulled Remy's hand away from her mouth and whispered, "Grease fire."
"That's pretty goddamn coincidental." He groused as the over head sprinklers shot to life, spraying water all over the office, "I told him! You heard me tell him no fire! No fire!" He cussed, hurrying back to the the computer in a last ditch effort to finish the job when Kitty popped open an umbrella and shoved it into his hand.
"Hold this."
He blinked at her, dumbfounded by her request, "What are you-"
She positioned his hand so the umbrella was shielding the computer screen and keyboard from the over head sprinklers and nudged his body out of her way as she flicked the monitor back on.
"Kitty, I'm not one to admit defeat easily, but we've gotta go-"
She shushed him as she went to work, typing codes and prompts like a mad woman. She clicked a few times on the mouse, wiping away the wet strands of hair that had glued themselves to her face before continuing her last ditch effort.
"I admire your perseverance, but the police will likely be-"
"Done." She clicked a few more times, shutting down the program before phasing her hand into the computer tower, effectively frying the mother board. She took the umbrella from Remy and closed it, replacing it behind the door where she'd found it as he stared at her.
"Let's go!"
"What do you mean done? How the hell did you do that?"
"What?" She shrugged, "Beginners luck."
He frowned skeptically, and shook his head, following her to the door to cautiously peer out into the hall. The diner was deserted, having been washed out when the sprinklers sprang to life. Remy led the way down the hall to the rear entrance which opened up to the back alley next to a set of garbage cans.
At the end of the alley, Piotr flicked the lights on his Tahoe to signal the two over as quickly as possible. They hurried over to the SUV and clamoured into the back seats, promptly slamming the door shut as Piotr pulled away.
"How many times did I say no fire?" Remy scowled at Pyro in the front passenger seat as he rung his socks out.
"I'm Don Cheadle, I blow things up." Pyro retorted with a smug grin. "Besides, I wouldn't have had to set off the grease fire if flirty over here kept his man under control."
"I am not a telepath, I cannot control people." Piotr snapped, "And he was only leaving because he wanted to give me his number. He could not find a pen."
Kitty's eyes lit up and she grinned from ear to ear, "Way to go Pete!"
"So, was our mission a success?" Pyro asked with a hopeful grin.
"Barely." Remy sighed, ruffling a hand through his hair to shake out some water. "No thanks to you."
"Yeah, Remy managed to save the day at the very last minute. He totally pulled it out of his ass." Kitty smiled innocently at Remy when looked at her as if she sustained some type of head injury.
"What are you-"
"You're definitely George Clooney. Only Clooney could pull that off last minute. I bet you had it all under control the whole time, and you were just waiting for the sake of being dramatic."
"That does sound like Remy." Piotr chuckled with a simple head shake.
Remy knit his brow at Kitty, trying to understand why she wasn't gloating about being Brad Pitt coming to the rescue. She wrung the water out of her hair, doing her best to ignore Remy's questioning looks.
"We should celebrate." Pyro twisted around to look at Remy, "Been a long time since ya pulled off a job. Hmm?"
Remy was too busy being confused by Kitty's actions to be offended by Pyro's insinuation that he'd somehow lost his touch, and he grunted by means of acknowledgment. He had fully expected her to ridicule him for not being able to hack into that program in a timely manner, not to mention exaggerate her helpfulness in the situation. But instead she sat quietly, running her fingers through her wet pony tail.
"We should do Star Wars night." Remy concluded. "Tonight."
Pyro knit his brow and twisted around in his seat, about to comment that while Star Wars night was fun, it was by no means a form of celebration.
"I think Kitty's proven herself a part of the group, she deserves to get in on the Star Wars action." Remy concluded with a single nod.
"Seriously?" She blinked, clearly trying to calm the excitement that was bubbling up inside her, "I can do Star Wars night?!"
"I think that sounds like a good idea." Piotr agreed, "I did not have any other plans tonight."
"I have a date in a few hours." Kitty realized as she glanced at the dashboard clock, "But I can totally cancel. It's not like he had anything amazing planned."
"Good. Star Wars night it is then." Remy grinned.