A/N: So I may or may not have seen 'X-Men Origins: Wolverine' and just loved it, sorry if advance if anything seems out of place, I'm hoping that by setting it at Wolverine times it won't mess with anything in the X-Men trilogy era.
Please leave a review and tell me what you think :)

Chapter 1: Mixed Messages

"She's one of those girls
They're nothing but trouble
Just one look and now you're seeing double
Before you know it she'll be gone."
~Avril Lavigne, 'One of Those Girls'

"So boys, what'll it be?"

Remy cast his eyes lazily over the table, spinning his cards in an arc over his head. It was late, and only three people sat with him around the table. That was the bad thing about the night wearing on, the number of people who wanted to try and put their luck against his lessened. Still, three was plenty, he just wanted to play.

One man grunted and shoved a pile of chips forward, "$200."

Remy's smirk turned marginally appreciative, as rest of the men shoved an equal sum towards the middle. That's the good thing about playing late, he thought to himself as the cards flew over his head and into his left hand, the money goes up as the people go down.

"Alright then, let's get to it."

He moved to begin dealing out the cards, when he felt someone lift his hat up off his head. The other men at the table had gone silent, and Remy could read the partly curious, partly appreciative glances in their eyes. Remy didn't turn around, he could hear whoever it was moving from behind him. A girl, or young woman, she couldn't be that far over 18, if she was over it at all. She had his hat perched on top of her long hair, in this lighting he couldn't make out a colour, but he could just see her dark eyes sparkling with amusement beneath the edge of his hat. Quite casually, she pulled out a chair and sat herself down opposite him.

"Deal me in."

"You old enough to be out this late, little darling?" he asked; resuming sending the cards in an arc over his head from hand to hand.

Her smile was almost predatory, and it was definitely flirtatious, "Why? Want to walk me back to my room?"

"Maybe later, little darling," he smiled lazily, "If you want to play, do you have the money?"

"Hmm," she pulled out a little bag and tipped a pile of chips out in front of herself, "What's the starter?"

"$200," Remy said; his yes never leaving hers.

Without dropping her own gaze from his, the girl counted out the right number of chips, and pushed them towards the middle, "There."

One of the chips seemed to roll away from the rest, and if Remy hadn't been keeping his eyes locked on hers, he would have noticed that it was her hand that knocked it away from the rest, and towards him. As it was, her eyes darted to it for a brief moment, before returning to his, and that he did notice.

He let the chip come towards him, and began rolling it atop his knuckles, "Don't let that one get away."

"Keep it," she said; flipping another into the pile, "Call it a gift."

Something on the chip caught his eye as it flashed over his hand, and he caught it quickly, holding it flat in his palm.

Run.

That was it, no sign of its worth in dollars, no naming of any kind, just that one word. This was no poker chip. He flicked his gaze back to hers, no more sly smirk, just a frown pulling his brows together low over his eyes. She gazed back at him with a perfectly innocent expression, a slightly flirty smile playing around her mouth, but for a brief second he thought he saw a glimmer of warning in there, before it was pushed down again.

"Well then, thank you kindly," he said; and slipped the chip into a pocket.

A frown flashed across her face, gone so quickly that he'd never have seen it if he hadn't been looking for something. She'd wanted him to follow the advice on that chip. Remy wasn't going to lie, after that little note he was on high alert for any kind of attack, but he didn't know her, he didn't know who might have sent her, and her certainly didn't know if running would put him into a trap or get him out of one. The Island might be shut down now, but that didn't mean that mutants were any safer, from either the humans or their own kind, he'd learnt that the hard way.

"What's your name, little darling?" he asked; sending cards out to each of the players.

"Jacinda, Jacinda Monteverdi," she replied.

Her confidence was firmly back in place, and Remy now wondered what she was masking with it.

"Pretty name," he acknowledged, "What brings you to these parts, Jacinda Monteverdi?"

"Oh, call it a gambit," she said with a smile, taking her cards in hand.

He felt shock splash over him, like a bucket of icy water, and he clenched his facial muscles to avoid making any kind of expression, though he did feel his hand twitch towards his staff. He had a similar reaction whenever he heard that word, the name he'd been given on the Island, but normally he could discount it as just someone using it for legitimate purposes. Not this time, he'd heard it, the slight emphasis on 'gambit'. She knew what it was. The others sharing their table had turned their faces down to glance at their cards, not Jacinda, she had picked them up, but kept her eyes level with his the whole time.

How did she know?

She was a mutant, she had to be. He had vivid memories of the last mutant to come to him and know his name, Logan. Where he was now, Remy had no idea, he seemed to have lost all of his memory somehow during whatever had happened on the Island. Was she one of the mutants from the Island? It was possible, he hadn't known everyone in there, or she might have been brought in following his own escape. Question was, was she a safe mutant to be around?

"A gambit, huh?" he kept up conversation with her as cards were traded in, "You wouldn't happen to have had any trips to an island recently, would you?"

She laughed, "No such luck, haven't been out of the states, yet."

There was absolutely no flash of recognition on her face of any kind, but considering the breaks in her mask that he'd seen already, maybe she'd just gained more control about letting lies slip through.

They said no more as the game went on, but he was aware of her eyes every time they flicked back to him. She held conversation easily with the rest of the men keeping company on the table, and that gave Remy the chance to study her as best he could. She seemed to externally confident and calm, and he was inclined to think that it might just be how she was, if he didn't see the occasional tired slump of her shoulders when she thought no one was looking. Such an act it must be, to be that tiring, and she also seemed to be nervous. When he was able to catch a secret look out of the corner of his eye, her own brown gaze darted around the room, as if she were keeping an eye on something.

When the game drew to a close, she showed her hand with a laugh, "A loss, I think."

It was the lowest in the group, only a pair. Still, Remy doubted that she'd come in here with any hope of playing a good game of poker, that had never been what she was out to win.

"Yes," he agreed; laying down a royal flush, trumping all the other hands.

Groans rose up from the other men as Remy raked in his winnings, but he only kept his lazy smile on, "Good game, boys, and girl."

"Another round?" one of them asked; eager to try and get his money back.

The rest of them quickly assented to this, and Remy cast a questioning glance at Jacinda, "Little darling, you going to stay?"

"I think not," she got up with a laugh, "But thank you for the game."

"Ahem," he coughed; making her turn around with a curious look, "You've still got my hat, I'll be wanting that back if you're leaving us."

She flicked her eyes upwards, as if just remembering the hat perched atop her head, and a sly smile spread out over her face.

"So I do."

She walked towards him in a manner that could only be called a saunter, and reached up to remove the hat with her left hand. He turned in his seat to keep her in his line of sight, and soon she stood right in front of him, with her left hand extending to replace the hat onto his own head. But he was taken by surprise when her right hand managed to make its way unnoticed around his neck, and she had suddenly pulled herself closer to kiss him about as thoroughly as he'd ever been kissed before. As surprised as he was, that didn't stop his own hand from reaching up to twine into her hair, and hold her closer.

He heard several wolf whistles as they kissed and, trustworthy or not, she was pretty, and a good kisser in his opinion, he certainly wasn't going to complain. When she pulled away from his lips, she didn't pull away from him entirely, and with her hair curtaining off her face from the world she could have been doing anything.

"Whatever you do, do not follow me," she whispered urgently into his ear, a note of desperation in her voice.

Before he had time to react, she had pulled away from him fully, and that confidant smile was back on her face, "If you still wanted to walk me home, I'm staying in the third room upstairs."

The way in which she didn't wait for his response, only walked towards the stairs leading up to the rooms here, made it clear that she wasn't inviting him to walk her up there, she was going to make him follow her up. Or rather, not to follow him, if her little whisper was anything to go by. Still, why play this big flirt game, only to say something like that? Put with the strange chip weighing down his pocket, and he had what felt like a mystery wrapped in an enigma. Then again, all women could be confusing with only a little effort on their parts, the hard part for men was keeping up with them.

He was really considering listening to her warning, as much as that kiss had really made him want to follow her, his instincts told him that he should just stay put and play out a few more hands. But then he saw something odd, as Jacinda made it to the bottom of the stairs, another stranger reached out and grabbed her arm, leaning close to furiously whisper something to her. She gave a laugh and calmly brushed his grip off, but something in the fast pace with which she took to the stairs said that the incident might not be as fun as her laugh made it out to be.

Scraping his chair back, he pocketed his cards and took up his staff, "Sorry, boys, I think I'll call it quits now for myself."

"I would, if I had an offer like that waiting," one of them said, "Off with you, save me from losing more money."

He clapped the man good-naturedly on the shoulder, and then made his way to the stairs. As he passed, he saw the same stranger that had grabbed Jacinda, but all he could make out in the shadows, was a pair of gleaming blue eyes.

A shudder ran down his spine, and he felt the urge to run, but he squashed it flat. He had no idea what he was in, who these people were, or why they wanted him. The only way he'd find out without being caught, was if he could get it out of Jacinda nice and quickly.

He quickened his pace on the stairs, he wanted answers, and he wanted them now.