Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me. *sighs*
Marie had known he was dangerous from the moment she laid eyes on him. He, Remy LeBeau, was a Cajun thief who enjoyed taking things that didn't belong to him to begin with, especially women's hearts. It was some sort of sick, evil hobby of his, and not for a moment did she ever think of being one of those ignorant females that let Remy take their hearts only to use it as a child's play thing, then put on a shelf to become engulfed with dust while others took her place. No. Way. Marie already went through that with Bobby Drake and a scoundrel such as that Swamp Rat was not going to get the best of her. That would be the last thing she would ever do.
She had observed over the past few weeks what Remy's game was, but that was only because Remy talked about his experiences all too much. He would meet up with some woman (preferably blondes), take them out somewhere to dine, sweet talk them with jewelry that he probably stole, and eventually get the good stuff. No phone call after or ever intentionally seeing them again. Marie wondered how on Earth how Remy managed to snake his way into so many hearts while his stayed so guarded- so cold. Did he ever think about any one of those women? Did he ever have any sort of attachment to just one? Did Remy even know how to fall in love? Or feel anything but lust? Marie didn't believe that of him. He was just a no good playboy to her.
Remy was just one of those men that could convince any self-respecting woman into jumping into a boiling, hot lake of lava for him. He would promise you the entire universe, (because all he would have to do was steal it) but he would never give it away without something in return: a night of emotionless sex, and even then, Remy would keep everything for himself. Still, you couldn't help but fall in love, because he said all the right things, made all the right moves, and kissed you like something out of a fairytale. Marie despised Remy for that. How many hearts has he crushed in one lifetime just by breaking a few promises?
Worst of all, Marie soon discovered that Remy had taken an interest in her. She was well aware of the challenge her mutation caused for someone like him. It was fun when they played hard to get. It makes the sport all the more intriguing, because wanting something you can't have is a fraction of the real fun. Forbidden fruit that you want to take a bite out of just to test a desire burning within you for so long, or in Remy's case, not too long at all. Well, that's just too bad! Marie thought, catching a cocky wink from the Cajun as he descended down the stairs while she sat a small table, scribbling down ways to dodge the beams coming from a Sentinel's eyes for her next Danger Room session. That boy can go find some othar poor creature to hang 'round with!
"Bonjour, mon Chere!" He greeted Marie, flopping down on the couch to watch the news.
Marie didn't reply to him, figuring anything she said could only sound like an invitation for sex to Remy. That's how their short conversations usually started. He would greet her with a happy Hello, she would reply with something civilized-sounding, Remy would twist her words into something meaning the opposite, and she would storm off in rage, deciding it best not to commit murder in the middle of a school, where little children could be scarred for life. She simply nodded in his direction, figuring the plainest of looks would get him off her case for the moment. Wrong.
"Have y' eaten breakfast yet?" Remy questioned. Marie shot him a sharp glare, warning him to be quiet. He either didn't take the hint of the remaining silence, he was nothing but a fool, or both. "I could make y' a special Cajun breakfast if y' want."
Wait, wait. Hold the phone. Did he, that waste of space over there on the sofa, just offer to cook something for her? Marie raised a disbelieving eyebrow, curiously studying his expression. Had he stolen something from Logan and was hoping to use her to spout out an apology, because Logan had a soft spot for her? No. That wasn't it. Remy isn't that much of a wimp. It sounds like something Iceman would do to gain forgiveness. She pondered Remy's question a little while longer. It had been quite a while since she had eaten a home cooked Southern meal. After all, it was only breakfast. Where was the harm in that? Still, Marie had to ask…
"Okay, Swamp Rat, what's the catch?"
"Chere, I'm wounded. What makes y' t'ink dis Cajun be havin' anyt'in' up his sleeve?" Remy replied, pretending to be hurt by her words.
"Be serious, sugah, or don't bothah talkin' to meh 'bout this anymoah, or at all, for that mattah." Marie said, placing her pen on the notepad. She rested her arms on her laps.
"Well, seein' how y' almost nevah go out on a night on de town, I was wonderin' if y'd want t' let me take y' somewhere? On a date?" Remy asked, getting up from the couch to take a seat next to her.
Marie attempted to stifle a giggle, but failed. She burst out in fits of laughter, holding her stomach while Remy watched with a horrified expression. "Are ya kiddin' meh, Gambit? That's just too hilarious! Meh? On a date? With ya? Please tell meh that ya're jokin'."
"I don' see what's so funny 'bout dat, Chere. Please, explain de joke." Remy retorted, angrily glaring at the laughing figure.
"C'mon, sugah. Men like ya do not go out with gals like meh. Untouchable an' such. Plus, ya an' Ah couldn't be any moah different." Marie's laughter came to an end when she saw that Remy had been serious. "Ya and Ah? Think 'bout it, Cajun. That's a disaster waitin' ta happen."
"An' what a belle t'ing it would be, Chere." Remy stated. Marie was about to speak again, but he stopped her. "Don' give moi dat 'I don' even know y' stuff', because dat's what dates usually be f'r."
Marie shook her head, while rolling her jade eyes. She couldn't see any sincerity in his scarlet ribbon resting on the midnight sky (because that's what his eyes reminded her of) orbs, but that was mostly since he was wearing sunglasses. Her foot began to tap restlessly against the table's wooden leg. Chewing her bottom lip, Marie contemplated the events of a possible date between them would be like. It would be like his usual ones, but with no sex after dinner. That seemed peculiar to her. Ugh! Why does she even have to think about revising her answer?
"Ya do realize, givin' mah skin condition, we cain't do anythin' that involves flesh-ta-flesh contact, don't ya?" Marie inquired, just in case Gambit needed reminding.
"Non, Cherie, dat ain't somethin' ya forget easily, but y're t'inkin' dat's all I want from y', y're mistaken." Remy answered.
"Alright, who are ya an' what have ya done with Gambit?" Maria sarcastically queried, sure that something was wrong with this man.
"Is it so hard t' believe dat all I want is one date wit' y'?"
"Oui," she mocked in his language.
Remy exhaled, hiding a growl arising in his throat. "Okay, dat's fair, but I'm dead serious. How y' want moi to prove it?"
"Ah don't want ya ta prove anythin' ta meh. Ah'm not interested." Marie replied. She backtracked in her mind a tad. "Ah cain't believe Ah'm doin this, but… Ah'll go on a date with ya on one condition."
"Which would be what, Chere?"
"We cain't go ta any expensive, romantic restaurant. Ah wanna just go for a drive or somethin'. Yeah, that's perfect! That's innocent enough. We can just talk an' get ta know each othah." Marie said. "Ya can take it or leave it."
"Well…, dat works f'r moi if it works f'r y'." Remy agreed.
Awkward silence
"So, 'bout that breakfast, is the offah still open?" Marie asked, giving Remy a genuine smile.
"Oui," Remy smirked, "as long as y' spend it wit' moi."
"Sure… Why not?" Marie pouted her pink lips, ready to put up all defenses.
Whatever game Gamit wanted to play, she would make him see that she was no toy to be played with.