"Hello?"
"Hi Remy!" Rogue greeted cheerfully.
"Cherie!" Gambit exclaimed. "How yo' doin'?"
"Ah'm great. And yourself?"
"Good, good. Where are yo'?"
"London," Rogue replied. "Ah just arrived yesterday."
"When yo' said yo' wanted ta do a world tour, yo' weren't kiddin'!"
Rogue giggled.
"It sure is useful, all those teleportation amplifiers of the aliens. And way, way cheaper than planes."
"I'm sure of that. So, how is London?"
"Dirty," Rogue laughed. "When they say its smoggy, they're not kiddin'. But it's good. And there are very noticable signs of like this, strangled attempt to integrate mutants here too. It's not Genovia, where you really can be carefree about it, tension is thick as a knife, but it's not dangerous. At least, not like we know it."
"I see."
"And how's work?"
"It's work," Gambit replied. "Had a few interestin'... tasks lately - good ones."
"Cool."
"How are the fuzzles?"
"Argh. You try taking care of nineteen fuzzles and see how you like it."
Gambit chudkled.
"Like that is it?"
"Well, maybe that's a slight exaggeration. Ah took Mitchel's advice and it was good, experienced advice at that. So it works well. The adults do most of the nitty gritty and I make sure they're fed and watered and get plenty of exercise and stuff."
The two chatted on for a while longer before Rogue had to hang up (long distance calls cost money!)