Written as a sad, sad attempt to make Wolverine and the X-Men's Gambit a tad more likable. Also, every member of the team happens to be canon; made for either the 90's X-men show, the X-Men Evolution show, or the comics. So I own NOTHING but the plot. It all belongs to Stan Lee…or Disney, Disney owns Marvel now. (Scary, huh?) And Nickolodeon.
Remy LeBeau awoke with a splitting headache. What's more, he wasn't entirely sure where he was. His last memory was sinking out in the ocean after that femme, Lorna, had used Magneto's helmet to smash his boat.
And though he couldn't quite remember, he was 95% percent sure she'd also beaned him with it, just for good measure.
He eventually managed to push himself up and take stock of his surroundings. The first thing he noticed was a mutant-resistant force field that he was currently behind—that, he'd found, usually did not bode well for him. The second thing he noticed was a S.H.I.E.L.D. logo on the other side of the field.
The last thing he noticed was a stiff looking guy with an eye patch staring at him from next to the logo.
"Good to see you've decided to come back to the land of the living," he man said dryly. "The name's Colonel Nick Fury, and I've got a proposition for you."
Gambit smirked, crossing his arms as he started to play a game he was well acquainted with—one of debating up prices. "An' why," he said smoothly, "would I be in'rested in a proposition?"
"For one thing, after that little stunt you pulled in Genosha, you've got yourself into a heap of trouble," Fury replied. "For one thing, you should know what they say about a woman scorned…"
Without meaning too, Remy's hand went to his throbbing head where a rather unappealing bump was appearing. Yeah, she'd definitely nailed him a time or two or fifty.
"For another thing, when the woman's family happens to consist of three of the most powerful mutants on the planet…"
Fury trailed off, allowing Gambit time to fully recall the rather…evil…look he'd remembered on Magneto's face shortly before the boat had sunk and he'd lost all consciousness. It really did not speak well for his future well-being.
"Add to that your…interesting…run in with Wolverine and the subsequent hatred of the X-Men, and we can all face facts," Fury gave Gambit a conniving smirk. "You need protection."
Remy chuckled slightly. "I c'n take care o' myself," he said. There was no way he would take a job based on somebody else's terms.
"Also, we've got enough dirt on your little Thieves Guild operations to put you away for a very long time," Fury added. "And not only will I lock you up and throw away the key, I'll personally see to it that that stick you carry is shoved right up your—"
"I tink mebbe I take you up on ya'll's offer," Gambit said hurriedly, interrupting Fury's little speech. For one thing, Fury was offering protection from an ever-increasing horde of Gambit-hunters. For another thing, Remy wasn't all that keen on being locked away in some prison for the rest of his life. Besides, he certainly didn't want anyone to do any shoving with his stick but him.
Fury made a brief motion with his hand and Gambit distinctively heard the sound of several weapons being lowered. Then the Colonel deactivated the force field and shook Remy's hand.
"Welcome to S.H.E.I.L.D."
Less than five minutes later, Gambit was following Colonel Fury through the many hallways of the S.H.I.E.L.D. helicarrier as Fury explained to him just what his new job's responsibilities were.
"With everyone having so much fun with the impending mutant/human war, it seems that most of the countries special intelligence divisions have been ignoring all the more common, less interesting, normal threats to national security," Fury was saying. "That's a mistake I don't intend to make."
"Dis is excitin' an' all, but where 'm I s'posed ta fit in?" Gambit questioned.
"Shut yer gum hole; I'm getting to that," Fury snapped. "In the interests of national security, I've taken the liberty to create a black ops mutant group that answers to S.H.I.E.L.D. and S.H.I.E.L.D. alone—nix that," Fury shrugged. "To me, and me alone."
The corners of Gambit's mouth curved upward. "Wha's the matta, Fury, can't cha make up yore mind?"
"Let's just say that in my line of work, it pays to be paranoid," Fury explained. "Your job is to infiltrate, gather intel, take out whoever needs taken out—and of course, if you're captured, I don't know you from the mystery meat in my Grandma's potluck."
"Naturally."
Fury finally stopped beside a closed door and turned to look at Gambit for the first time. "Of course, gathering a crack mutant team takes time. Time is something we don't have right now. You take what we give you, and you get them in shape to do what they need to do. I can give you three weeks to train, afterwards you're on your own." Fury entered the doorway and appeared a second later with a bunch of dossiers. "Meet your new team," he ordered.
Gambit took the dossiers and opened the first one. On it was a picture of a young woman, probably Asian, with long black hair with purple bangs.
"Elisabeth Braddock, a.k.a. Psylocke. Your resident telepath. She can also create purple stun bolts of psychic energy that can subdue, injure, or even kill a target. She likes to create psychic swords and jab it into people's heads," Fury said, having apparently memorized the information.
"Fun gal," Gambit quipped, opening the next flyer.
The next dossier had a photo of a young Caucasian male with sholder-length blonde hair. He had three fingers and a thumb on either hand.
"Longshot—ain't got no other name," Fury stated. "He's from an alternate dimension. Superhuman speed, agility, endurance, and reflexes. Also supposed to have heightened healing abilities. Can psonically alter probability fields to give himself 'good luck.' Works even when he doesn't consciously will it too. However, if he does it with evil or selfish intent, or loses hope, this power will fail or even backfire, giving him bad luck. Also, using 'good luck' for him will create 'bad luck' for somebody else. Can telepathically 'read' recent memories if he makes skin contact with someone. Can hear thoughts of people by touching objects they've touched. Hardwired into his DNA that most women will fall in love with him. Carries cleaver-like blades that he throws with inhuman accuracy, dependant on his luck powers."
"How long it take you ta memorize dat little speech?" Gambit asked amused. He opened the next dossier to reveal a Caucasian male with short black hair and two pitch black circles around his eyes.
"Kevin Sydney, a.k.a Morph. One of those shape shifters. He can alter his physical appearance and vocal cords to mimic anyone else."
"Looks creepy," Gambit offered. Fury gave him a dirty look until he shrugged and opened the next dossier. It showed a Chinese teenaged girl with short black hair with pink plastic goggles, pink shirt, blue jean shorts, and a horribly clashy bright yellow raincoat looking thing with no sleeves, and white gloves.
"Jubilation Lee, or Jubilee for short," Fury explained. "She creates fireworks of explosive plasma."
Gambit simply raised an eyebrow and went to the next dossier. It was another teenaged girl; with long brunette hair and a mean look to her face.
"X-23, a.k.a. Laura Kinney. She's Wolverine's cloned daughter. Has his powers and healing factor, as well as two claws on either hand and one claw on either foot."
Gambit's face might have gotten a tad paler, but it was hard to tell. He quietly and quickly turned to the next dossier. It showed a teenaged African-American boy with shockingly blonde hair that looked shaped into a crew cut.
"Evan Daniels, a.k.a. Spyke. He can an extend and retract bone spikes that grow inside his body and shoot them, or bring them out and grab and hold. Needs to drink a lot of milk to replace calcium he loses with his powers. He's an expert skateboarder. And he HAS to have an accelerated healing rate to heal the holes that have to open when his bones extend. He's also the nephew of Storm."
Gambit quickly scanned his memory for reasons that Storm—and therefore Spyke—might bear him ill will. He couldn't think of anything, so he opened the last dossier. It had a picture of a Caucasian male with short, curly blonde hair. According to the info, the man was from Australia.
"St. John Allerdyce, a.k.a. Pyro. Can mentally control fire by shaping it as he desires, increasing or decreasing it's heat, intensity, or size. He cannot create fire, however, and has a special suit that sports flamethrowers for him to use. Can throw flame to a distance of 25 feet away. He cannot be harmed by fire he's controlling, but can be hurt by fire he's not controlling. How much concentration it takes to control the fire depends on how complex and/or big it is. The fire reverts to normal when he stops controlling it."
Gambit closed the last dossier and handed the pile back to Fury. "Sound like an in'restin' bunch," he said simply.
"Glad you think so," Fury said, motioning Remy to follow him to another room. The Colonel opened the door and stepped back, allowing Remy to walk in.
Gambit stepped into the doorway and froze, his eyes widening in shock.
Inside, the room had been totaled. To the left, the wall bore several claw marks—hauntingly familiar marks—and X-23 was busy creating more. A savage light was in her eyes, but she was grinning. Next to most of the claw marks were scorch marks, provided by Jubilee. Apparently, the two were having a 'Let's see who can cause the most damage' competition.
At the other side of the room, Spyke was eagerly explaining skateboarding techniques to Longshot, who was holding a stuffed teddy bear and listening with rapt attention. Psylocke was also there, but she looked like she was in pain—although that was because Spyke wouldn't shut up, or because she kept hitting her head on the table, or some combination of the two, one couldn't really be sure.
But the major shock came from the center room, where Pyro had four fire-buzzards circling a stool, on top of which Senator Kelly was dancing a jig and singing the Spongebob Squarepants theme. Both Pyro and the good senator were laughing like…well…like they were insane.
Fury produced a small machine and pressed a button. A loud whistle emerged from it, causing everyone to stop and hold their ears, crying out in pain. Senator Kelly twisted and eventually changed his form back to that of Morph. The fire vultures vanished. And everyone else stopped what they were doing to look at Fury.
"Now that I have your attention," the Colonel jabbed his thumb towards Remy. "This here's Remy LeBeau, a.k.a. Gambit. He'll be your leader, teacher, trainer, and C.O. from now on." Fury turned to Gambit and gave him a rather wicked looking grin. "Good luck," he admonished, walking out.
Remy suddenly found himself the center of attention in a room full of less-than-happy-to-be-roped-into-this-whole-thing mutants. Mutants who were not giving him pleased looks.
You know, life imprisonment wasn't looking like such a bad thing, after all.