SUMMARY: Bobby, Rogue, Jubilee. When Bobby decides to play a prank on someone, perhaps he should think twice about his choice of targets.
NOTES: This is a background piece to "What I Did On My Summer Vacation," detailing events mentioned in that story. This story is dedicated to Alyson Hurt, because she wanted to see it.
ARCHIVE: Please. As often as possible, and wherever you like.

Bobby, Rogue, and the Vat of Hair Dye
by Mercutio

"Blonde!"

"Neh -- she's a redhead."

"Blonde!"

"Bobby," Hank said, "I'm afraid I must also respectfully decline to agree with you. Our Rogue is most certainly a redhead."

"Well, maybe technically. But wouldn't she look better as a blonde?"

Gambit shook his head firmly. "Chere looks good just the way she is."

"You say that now--"

"Bobby, I mislike that look in your eye. Must I remind you again of the perils of crossing an invulnerable woman with super-strength?"

"If I didn't listen before, what makes you think I'll listen now?" Bobby asked reasonably.

Beast covered his eyes with one paw. "Oh my stars and health insurance premiums."

"Tell me again why we're doing this," Jubilee said, transferring the contents of the dye bottle to Rogue's shampoo bottle.

"Because it's fun."

"Nuh-uh. If it was just for fun, we'd be doing this to Scott."

"Now there's an idea." Bobby considered it for a moment, then shook his head. "Nah. been there, done that, got the photographs. No. I want to see Rogue as a blonde. She's good looking now, but as a blonde, she'd be spectacular."

"Ugh. Gag me with a large bottle of laundry detergent. And count me out." She dropped the shampoo bottle and stood up.

Bobby shrugged at the fecklessness of his would-be partner in crime, then looked up in alarm. "Hey, you won't tell Rogue about this, will you?"

"'Course not. Us pranksters gotta stick together. Even when one of us is fruitloops."

The next morning...

Bobby had gotten up especially early that day, in anticipation of the shrieks of horror and cries of "Bobby, how could you?"

Maybe it wasn't positive attention, but hey, at least it was attention, right?

But as the morning wore on and Rogue's usual time of waking came and went, Bobby began to get nervous. What if she didn't wash her hair this morning? What if the dye didn't work? What if she strung him naked by his toes from the flagpole on the White House's front lawn?

Hey -- she'd have to touch his naked body to do that! Bobby smirked. Okay, so Rogue would have to be wearing her gloves, but she would have touched his bare flesh. He shoots, he scores!

Grinning at that pleasant thought, Bobby almost missed it when Rogue entered the kitchen yawning. And blonde.

He knew it! He just knew it! She made a gorgeous blonde!

"Uhh... hi," Jean said cautiously from the table. "What have you done with your hair?"

All of the X-Men present who hadn't yet noticed Rogue's transformation looked at Rogue. As one, their heads swivelled to Bobby.

"Hey! It could've been someone other than me," Bobby protested. Being hung naked on a flagpole was a pleasant thought if Rogue were the one doing it. If you put Cyclops, Gambit and Wolverine in her place, the picture got a lot uglier.

"Could've. But it wasn't, non?" Gambit asked dangerously.

"Oh leave him alone, Remy," Rogue said to the surprise of all present. "Ah like the new color. You can hardly see the white streak at all like this."

"You... you like it?" Bobby stuttered, all of his plans for a pleasant afternoon spent being tortured at Rogue's lovely hands shattered into pieces.

"Absolutely, Bobby. Ah love it." She picked up her bowl of oatmeal and waltzed out the door.

"I don't believe it," Bobby said, shaking his head. "Of course, she does look good like that, so maybe I shouldn't be complaining, but..."

Sam entered the kitchen, carrying a vase of roses. "These just came for you, Bobby."

"For me?" Bobby squeaked. "Hmm... maybe it's a thank you from Rogue."

"You wish."

Bobby shot a glare at Jubilee, then picked the card from the flowers, opened it and read the note inside.

Dear Bobby,

I've heard so much about you from my esteemed colleague, Dr. McCoy. I'm especially impressed by the stories of your sexual stamina and prowess, as well as your lack of inhibition when it comes to, shall we say, furred bodies? I look forward to meeting you and exchanging words. Your rather heated letter has filled me with great desire to explore some uncharted territory with you. Personally. Alone. In private.

Yours in longing anticipation,
Walter Langowski (Sasquatch)

"What letter?" Bobby asked, looking suspiciously around the room. "I didn't write a letter. Who wrote a letter claiming to be me?"

"Not me," came the chorus back from the breakfasting X-Men.

Sam, who had left the room, came back in again. "We just got a call from Alpha Flight. They're going to be here any minute."

Bobby fainted.

Alerted by the loud noise, Rogue peeked around the corner of the halfway open door. She saw Bobby lying on the floor, and came in, giggling. "Thanks, Sam."

"My pleasure, ma'am."

Rogue dropped the blonde wig on the table and exchanged a high five with Jubilee. "Now what do we do with him?"

"Wrap him up and deliver him to Alpha Flight for real?" Jubilee suggested mischievously.

"I'll get the tape."

-the end-

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