Title: Recollections

Genre: Angst/Romance/Drama

Marvel: X-Men (But the beginning has nothing to do with the X-Men)

Pairing: James Logan (Wolverine) x Remy Lebeau (Gambit)

Warnings: Angst, violence, language, fluff, spoilers. Perhaps some OOC-ness.

Overall Story Rating: Mature.

Author's Notes: This has a big story behind it. XD I had started outlining this story a little over a month ago, and just a few days ago I was looking up some information on Wolverine and I made a huge error…so I had to stop outlining the story because of that mistake. Of course, I had to restart the entire thing. I have only outlined a few chapters thus far, and I have no idea how long it is going to be now. But, I do have quite a bit of a plot behind this…and I have several directions that I would like to take it, but I need to figure out just how to do it. There will be quite a bit of twists and places in the story that will hopefully keep people in suspense. I am going to try and make each chapter as long as I can and I will try to really get into their characters and make them sound like---well, THEM. But, I will go ahead and say that there most likely will be parts where one or the other or both will be out of character just slightly…but still OOC nonetheless. Well, that's all I have to say for now. Positive reviews would be much appreciated. And please, no flames. Thank you. Enjoy.

Recollections - Chapter One

It was in the middle of January; most of the world was suffering from the usual outbreak of bitter weather. Canada was certainly no exception. Remy estimated it was at least fifteen or more so degrees below zero--it had to be. He had made his way across the entire United States, via a considerate trucker that wouldn't mind taking him a few miles. How he wanted to get as far away as possible from Bella Donna as he could. The aftermath of the wedding was what drove him away…and perhaps the fact that he didn't love her. He couldn't picture someone of his caliber spending the rest of his life with someone of the likes of her. He was an expert thief and gambler---marriage certainly wasn't in the cards for him.

Remy hadn't brought anything with him. All he had was the clothes on his back and a deck of cards that he never left without in his trench coat pocket; both for his own entertainment as well as an easy access weapon in case he came across someone that wanted to give him some trouble. The main purpose of coming here was so that way no one he knew could possibly find him. Since his wasn't even in the same state as his ex-wife anymore, it was like trying to find a needle in a massive haystack. Though, at this point he was wishing he would have brought a few extra coats…

At last…he found solace. And this particular sanctuary was in the form of a bar. He certainly didn't mind. Perhaps a few shots of vodka would warm him up a bit. Remy did have a bit of cash from his last gig, so if he could find a decent hotel to stay at, and buy a few drinks he was content. At this rate there was no way he could go back to his home with the need for cash…he would have to make it somehow. He would figure it out after he got a few drinks in him.

Remy quickly opened the door and stepped inside, a pleasing warm air hitting his body. He sighed softly with relief and removed his hands from his pockets, rubbing them together for a few moments before looking around. This place sure was vacant, not that he doubted it wouldn't be. It was in the middle of nowhere and anyone would be crazy to go out in this weather. Though, the establishment was rather large. A long bar, quite a few tables and four pool tables with a couple televisions. So it wasn't as bad as it looked to be from the outside. Of course, anything that involved any kind of heat was heaven.

Remy made his way over to the bar as he thawed out, taking a seat at one of the bar stools. He was the only one there aside from another man sitting a few chairs down from him; whom was currently occupying himself with a beer and cigar. From the bored look on the bartenders face, they hadn't started any sort of a conversation. "What'll it be?" the bartender asked, stopping at cleaning one of the mugs in his hand for the moment. It was good that he didn't waste a moment before asking.

"Jus' a beer, homme." Remy said and crossed his arms over the countertop, then looking over at the television that was turned on in the corner. There was static, but he could easily tell that it was football playing in the background. There was no sound. The speakers must have blown out, he assumed. Or the bartender or the man a few chairs down got annoyed with listening to the station that they just muted it.

The bartender placed the beer in front of Remy, before going back to cleaning the mug in his hand. He didn't bother saying anything, not feeling it was necessary. He didn't seem to pay much attention to any of the customers until they asked for a drink. In the end, he was the one getting the money for the drinks since he owned the place. Being courteous wouldn't get him an extra tip with the men currently present.

"Merci." Remy took a small swig of the beer before directing his attention the man adjacent to himself. This night would be completely boring if the two just sat in silence, so the Cajun was musing over some of the things he could possible say as a conversation starter. He knew of the saying 'never judge a book by its cover' but this man didn't look like he tolerated being bothered---especially by a stranger. "Cold, non?" That was a start…but it also could be considered stupid since it was plainly obvious that it was cold outside. It was the middle of January, in Canada. Remy bit his lower lip, but kept his eyes focused on the other. He almost regretted saying anything.

The man looked up from his beer, taking a long drag of the cigar between his lips before responding. "Doesn't bother me." It was a simple reply, but it was still a reply nonetheless. Was this just what Remy needed in order to continue talking?

Remy could assume that the cold didn't bother him this much. He appeared to be a burly man; though he wasn't dressed suitable enough for this type of weather. Remy was puzzled how as to how it didn't bother him since he wasn't wearing as many layers as he should have been. All this man was wearing was a tank top, with a plaid button up shirt (the sleeves currently rolled up and shirt tucked neatly into his pants), jeans and boots.

At this point Remy was struggling to think up anything he could possibly say now. He had already had plenty of trouble making his first comment---but to carry on any further conversation---that was going to be a challenge. He seemed to be a man of very little words. Of course, that was only based off of the chat they've had thus far.

But then something struck him. Remy smirked lightly and reached into his trench coat pocket, pulling out the deck of cards he never went without. "Do ya play?" he asked, tapping the box on the countertop and listening intently for his reply. He didn't even seem to realize that he was using his charm on him…almost daring him to say no.

The man looked up. "…Yeah."

Seems this night was going to be a bit more interesting after all.

~*~*~*~

A couple beers and a few rounds later, the man now known as Logan was out twenty five bucks. They had shared an exchange of words throughout the duration of each game---and now knew the basics about one another…or rather, names. Remy didn't want to pry, and he was sure Logan wasn't interested in hearing about the reason why he even traveled up here…not that he cared to explain.

"Play again, mon ami?" Remy chided, already beginning to shuffle the deck once more. He was an expert at Poker, and from what he had seen, Logan wasn't a rookie at the game either. He certainly didn't mind progressing another game---the more money he had the better. He didn't have but a couple hundred dollars in his pocket…and with hotel and food it would diminish quickly.

"Gonna have to pass." Logan said and shoved his wallet back into his pants pocket before standing up and putting out his cigar in the ashtray on the table they had moved to. "Got work tomorrow."

Remy supposed that made sense, it was going on eleven o' clock. "Oh. Is Logan gonna be back here tomorra?" He was inwardly hoping the answer was going to be 'yes'. There was something about this man that Remy wanted to get to know…he seemed more decent that anyone he had come across thus far in his trek up here.

"Yup." Logan looked over to the bartender and gestured to the beers on his side of the table. The bartender nodded, knowing exactly what that meant. Logan had a tab going here; so he obviously did come here often. "See ya around, kid." he turned and made his leave, opening the door and walking out into the flurries of snow.

Now that he was gone, there was really nothing more for Remy to occupy himself with. He stood up from the chair, slipping the bills he had won from the other male into his pocket before walking over to the bar and taking a seat. "Is dere any good hotels `round here…? Nothin' too expensive `dogh…" he also slipped the deck back into his pocket, joining the money.

The bartender looked towards the door. "There's a hotel just a few miles down the road. It's not too bad." he insisted, picking up another mug and proceeding to clean it. "Or there is one about fifteen miles down the highway, cheaper."

Well, that one wasn't an option for Remy. He did have to walk after all. "Non, da first one sounds jus' fine." He smiled lightly, his thoughts jumping back to Logan. That then got the better of him. "So, ya mind telling me a bit `bout `em?" It was apparent who he was talking about.

"Logan?" The bartender arched an eyebrow and shrugged, playing it off as if there wasn't much he could say about him. "Doesn't talk much. He seems like a good guy." He wasn't one to judge.

"Oui?" Remy tapped his fingers idly on the countertop. "He `ver come in wid someone else?"

"Nah. Always alone." The man behind the bar chuckled lightly. "Though he does get in his share of fights. Some guys always trailing up in here looking to make trouble. They don't even have to know him to say that he owes him money---or he cheated them in a poker game. He does know how to fight though. Never loses." He said honestly and set down the mug he just finished cleaning. "I don't necessarily care about the fights. He brings in new customers." He then laughed and shook his head.

Remy managed a dry chuckle and then reached into his pocket, pulling out a twenty dollar bill and setting it on the counter before the bartender. "I suppose I be back tomorra' night…" He stood up. "Dis pays for `is drinks too."

The bartender blinked before picking up the bill and putting it in his pocket. "See you tomorrow then." he dismissed and turned to the television as Remy made his way out of the bar…

Eager for the next night to come.

-End of Chapter One-

Author's Notes: Oh wow. I must've have written this chapter four times. I couldn't decide how I wanted it to go and that ended up making me restart a few times. Well, I think this took me about a week total to get my thoughts finally all together. So, for what this chapter is worth, I hope everyone that read enjoyed it and you can look forward to another chapter being published soon. Positive reviews would be much appreciated! Thank you!