12 January

Scent. n. 1. a distinctive odor, especially when agreeable 2. an odor left in passing, by means of which an animal or person may be traced 3. a track or trail as or as if indicated by such an odor 4. perfume 5. the sense of smell 6.small pieces of paper dropped by the hares in the game of hare and hounds -v. 7.to perceive or recognize by or as if by the sense of smell 8. to fill with an odor 9. to hunt by the sense of smell, as a hound

"'No unauthorized experiments!'" Hank shouted, though it was more to himself than anyone around him. "Chemistry is about expanding one's knowledge base, challenging existing theories, and-"

"I'm sure dis is wonderful stuff, mon ami, but could ya quiet down?" Remy snapped. He wasn't angry, but it was the most cross Rogue had ever seen him before. "You been goin' on 'bout dis every since ya got home. I ain't never been t' school an' don' know what you talkin' 'bout, but I know I ain't da only one."

"Let me put it into simpleton language: This is a big project. We're allowed to conduct our own experiments. Mine was rejected by the teacher."

"What do you plan on doin', Sugah? Burnin' down the building?"

"No," Hank replied curtly. "However, the chemicals I plan to use are extremely volatile, especially when amalgamated. I would use utmost caution around them, and she knows my lab technique-"

"Der ya go again," Remy cut in. "Shut. Up. Half dose words flew right o'er my head an' I di'n't care 'bout it in da first place."

"'It is the mark of an educated mind to be able to entertain a thought without accepting it,'" Beast quoted in retaliation.

Remy scoffed. "I could'a told you I wa'n't book smart. Dat ain't all dat matters."

"Why not talk to the teacher and tell her ... this," Rogue suggested. She gestured weakly with her hands before self-consciously crossing them across her chest. "Ah don't know anything about chemistry, but Ah don't want t' be an ass." She glanced pointedly at Remy as she put emphasis on the last word. "There ain't nothin' we can do. Ah'm sorry."

Hank sighed and thought about what Rogue said for a second. "Yes. You may be right. However, as said by our past president, Abraham Lincoln, 'be sure you put your feet in the right place, then stand firm.'"

"Now you jus' rubbin' dis in my face."

Quickly entertaining a smile, Hank called over his shoulder as he turned to leave, "Perhaps."

"Ah get a strange feelin' you ain't the most popular mutant on the block, Sugah," Rogue taunted once Hank had left the room.

"Nah. Dey all jealous o' my outgoin' personality an' my ability to pick up da ladies."

"Ah dunno. Ah don't much wanna go an' pick anyone up as it is."

"Non?" Remy asked. "What'd I ever do t' you?"

Rogue blinked. "Ah didn't mean it that way..."

Remy held up a hand. "Non. I bet you di'n't. 'Sides, dat mean you ain't jealous o' me. We get along fine, n'est-ce pas?"

Rogue pushed him lightly on the chest, walking away. "As long as you don't make any moves on me."

"Oh yah? When I makin' da moves on you, you know."

Rogue turned around at the doorway. "There a stench in the air, Remy, and it smells a lot like lies."

"Now you makin' no sense!"

"Think about it and Ah think Ah am."