Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Edit: Spelling and grammar mistakes have been corrected, minor parts have been embellished and some scenes extended.
"His Queen of Hearts"
Chapter One - UneXpected Events
By Flight of Phoenix Wings
---xXx---
"What is it with you and cards anyway?" Rogue asked him.
"Well, it's like having fifty-two explosives tucked in one little pocket." Gambit explained, holding up a card. "I always save her for last."
"The Queen of Hearts?" She asked him. Gambit kissed the card.
"My lucky lady. She's gotten me out of a whole lot of jams."
—Episode 49, Cajun Spice
---xXx---
For a Saturday in the middle of August it was exceptionally muggy and without a single breath of cool air. Any sane person wouldn't even be caught thinking about going out, but last week Rogue had already agreed to go shopping with Kitty; the weather was just another reason on the list of things to change her mind. Among others were the facts that the mall she wanted to go to was outside of Bayville and there was a slim chance of Lance meeting them there. Joy. At that point Rogue called in reinforcements; Wanda and she had formed an odd little friendship in the post-Apocalypse truce between teams and the Scarlet Witch certainly wouldn't balk at some of the stores Rogue liked to shop in.
"Kitty! Hurry up and get down here or Ah'm leavin' without ya!" she called up the stairs.
"No! I'm coming!" Kitty yelled as she ran down the stairs, adjusting her ponytail and accidentally phasing through Roberto. As she came next to Rogue, she spotted the keys in her gloved hand.
"Oh no! I can so totally drive Rogue! Let me have the keys!"
"Uh-uh! Ah want ta get ta tha mall in one piece!"
"Please Rogue?"
"No!"
Rogue had won that argument before it even started, though Kitty's sulking lasted for the entire hour and a half drive up until they were halfway through the second store. She was vehemently trying to talk Rogue out of buying a pair of shoes that looked like a knee-high combat boot with a bit of a heel.
"They're like so…bulky! Why don't you try these on?" Kitty pleaded, holding out a pair of strappy high heels.
"Kit…those are pink. Ah don't do pink." Rogue said, seemingly revolted by the offensive color.
"No they aren't…they're like…fuchsia! That isn't pink!"
"Uh-huh, right;" Rogue glanced disbelievingly at her friend; "Ah like tha color of these just fine."
"But, but they're black!" Kitty protested.
"So? Ah like black."
"Rogue, your wardrobe needs a serious color boost, come on!"
"So Ah'll buy colored shoe laces," Rogue told her as she replaced the shoes in the box. Kitty growled in annoyance.
"Fine! No fuchsia…what about green? I know you like green at least!" Rogue just stared at Kitty, who sighed in surrender, "Dark green?"
"Maybe."
"Alright, at least I'm getting somewhere with you…" Kitty said as she went to find the green counterparts to the pink monsters she was holding.
"I happen to like those boots."
Kitty and Rogue turned to see Wanda, with Lance a few steps behind.
"Hey Wanda. Ah'm glad you showed up."
"Anything to get away from Toad for a day," Wanda waved her off. "Are you actually getting those?" she gestured to the green shoes Shadowcat was now handing Rogue.
Looking the shoes over, which had a skinnier and higher heel and twice as many straps, she handed them right back.
"No. Kitty, they're alright but Ah'll never wear those anywhere."
"So? They're cute and a color other than black!"
"Ah'll break my neck."
"You know what? I'll get them for you anyway and someday you'll thank me!" Kitty boxed the shoes up.
"Hey pretty Kitty, what do you say we go grab lunch?" Lance asked her, slipping an arm around her shoulders. Kitty giggled and checked her watch.
"It's like, way after four, you haven't eaten?"
"No. Blob raided the fridge."
"Sure, why not;" She and Rogue went to pay for their purchases. "Are you two going to come with?" Kitty asked Rogue and Wanda.
"Ah was going to hit the book store…"
"Me too," Wanda added.
"Okay then, we'll spit up. I'll just give you a call when we're done, okay? You've got your phone on right?" Kitty asked Rogue.
"Just let me check—aw shoot! Ah left it at home!" She cursed as she checked her pocketbook and came up empty handed.
"I have mine," Wanda said.
"Uh…like okay, I'll just call you then?" Kitty managed to turn it into a question and Wanda nodded.
"Sounds alright."
"Um…okay, see you guys latter!" Kitty grabbed onto Lance's hand and fled, still just a little unnerved by Rogue's new friend.
"I don't even know where the book store is in this place." Wanda admitted.
"Ah think it's on tha second floor. Ah don't know why she wanted ta come all tha way out here…"
"Could it have something to do with what happened the last time the four of us were at Bayville Mall?" Wanda grinned, Rogue laughed.
The bookstore was a tiny, un-franchised thing, though it was full of books of the variety Wanda and Rogue could both enjoy. It was a popular enough place, packed with a Saturday crowd that almost made Rogue reconsider going in but she really wanted to get something new to read. You could only read a book so many times before you started to have it memorized.
Wanda quickly found a book she had been looking to buy and retreated to a reading area where she glared some poor kid with a comic book out of his chair. Rogue wasn't having the same sort of luck, so she left her shopping bags with Wanda and went back to the tightly placed shelves.
Now lacking the Scarlet Witch's crowd-repelling power, Rogue attempted to navigate the store, trying and failing to keep from being jostled by the other customers packed between the rows of shelves. She couldn't help but brush up against someone occasionally, there were so many people…too many people…they were too close…too close…walls…too close…
Rogue suddenly found she couldn't breathe. She closed her eyes and fumbled to get out of the store. Someone called her name, but she had to get out…get outside, she needed air…
Rogue didn't stop running until she hit the open space outside the mall; even then she only slowed to a fast walk, calming herself down as the wind whipped around her. She didn't understand why she'd flipped out like that. Sure, she was nervous around large groups of people, but freaking out like that wasn't in her character. A distant rumble of thunder growled overhead, seeming to agree.
Rogue continued her calming walk down the street, examining the windows of the small shops that had sprung up around the mall. These were already beginning to close up for the day as crowds of shoppers left for home and dinner. She'd walked a block or two away now and was about to head back into the mall when she realized she'd mistaken a turn and was going in the wrong direction. She wasn't too concerned though and idly watched the people around her, until something made her stop. There was a man with blond hair up ahead of her a way, watching her with an odd expression. Rogue couldn't place where she'd seen him before, yet something about him sent a warning chill down her spine. He came closer and spoke in a strong Cajun accent.
"Bonsoir, fille. It's Rogue, oui?" The man smiled a predator's grin and it clicked.
"Julien," Rogue whispered.
Time slowed down. Rogue was clearly aware of everything around her seemingly at once. The street emptying as the approaching dusk drove people away, how the dark settling around them was still not yet dark enough for streetlights; instead the evening's shroud of shadows began to cast its pall over the deserted road. The dark windows of lifeless businesses reflected the sunset, painting everything in blood-red hues. In the alleys the shadows, too solid, moved like ghosts that witnessed the meeting with hungry eyes. And the sounds too, seemed to be louder; somewhere, a dog barked at a trespasser, in the alley nearby broken glass tinkled, a block away the engine of a motorcycle raced…
"Ah! Y' remember me! I am flattered Rogue. I was really hopin' I'd get t' see y' again." Something in his voice froze Rogue to the spot, transfixed like a bird in the eyes of a serpent. The motorcycle's drone revved in the background, almost covering the sounds of snickers in the dark.
"What are yah doin' here Julien?" Rogue asked, almost sure she didn't want him to answer. Though he grinned in response and began to step forward, his answer was cut off as a motorcycle's roar drowned out all other sounds. Julien broke his gaze as his eyes, furious and frustrated, settled behind her on the bike that passed so close to Rogue she could have reached out and touched the rider. They drove directly at Julien, who only barely got out of its way in time.
"Logan?" she asked herself, stunned. But no, she realized as they sharply swerved back around towards her; the color and shape of the bike was wrong and Logan's helmet didn't cover his face…
Whoever it was stopped in front of her, their back to her as they leapt off the bike and throwing away the helmet, they snarled in a voice that Rouge hadn't heard in more than a year.
"Too far Julien! Y' gone too far! I warned y' t' never so much as put a foot in New York! I told y' what would happen t' y' if y' did!"
"Remy LeBeau," Julien cursed as he spat, "y' don' have the stomach t' kill me."
"Oh, I don' know, 'm thinkin' 'bout proven' y' wrong," Gambit turned his head only slightly, still watching Julien. "Rogue? Y' alright?"
"What? Yah don't think Ah can handle blondie mahself? Ah'm fine Cajun." Rogue smirked but before Gambit could say a word Julien lunged as he yelled, "Not fo' long! Y' river rat is dead LeBeau!"
Gambit moved so fast Rogue never saw where the staff came from that he used to deflect the blade Julien pulled from thin air. The weapons met with an angry screech as sparks flew; they struggled briefly, nearly blurring as they parried the miss-matched weaponry, breaking apart only to come together again as they clashed. Gambit finally moved with a twist that Rogue almost missed entirely, his staff sending Julien's dagger flying through the air, swiftly followed by its owner landing in a crumpled heap.
Gambit immediately whirled around and grabbed Rogue by the arm as the shadows moved in on them.
"This way, Rogue! Run!" He told her needlessly—his grip ensured that she'd likely be dragged if she stopped.
"Where are we going?" Rogue protested as they maneuvered down an unimpressionable maze of alleys and streets.
"Just keep movin' an' I'll explain later!" He told her as he continued to lead the way.
Rogue thought he was never going to stop when he unexpectedly did, pulling her behind him in a recessed doorway down a back road. With the caution only a thief possessed, he looked out around the corner.
"Wh—" Rogue started, but Gambit whirled around, clamping his gloved hand over her mouth, his body pressed to hers in the small space.
"Shhhh! Der be more o' dem around somewhere. Y' must be very quiet chère, d'accord?" He whispered softly, red eyes burning in the growing shadows. Rogue nodded. He removed his hand, eyes lingering on hers a second too long before he turned away.
"What's goin' on Gambit? What are tha Rippers doin' here? Rouge breathed in his ear, too close to him for her comfort. His answering laugh was soft, dark and without humor.
"Y' can't think o' any reason at all why assassins might come looking fo' y'?"
Realization dawned on her face as she mouthed 'me?', hoarsely whispering, "Why?"
"Later. I gotta get y' outta here; I can't be fightin' all o' them at once and be keepin' y' safe too."
"I can fight f' mahself just fine." Rogue hissed.
"Non! Not against dem! Dey're trained killers!" His eyes were back on hers, furious.
"So what now?" she asked. Gambit let out a frustrated sigh as he resumed his lookout.
"Can y' reach de X-Men?"
"Not unless ya got a phone."
"Non…But I'd bet dey do…" he replied, eyeing the door they stood in front of. The Cajun thief bent down as he studied the lock and worked on opening it. After a minute, he swore under his breath in French.
"Never de easy way, n'est-ce pas?" He grumbled, running a bare finger along where the lock met the doorframe, trailing a pink glow. He moved back and in front of Rogue as the energy caused a small explosion.
"What happened ta bein' quiet?" Rogue muttered. Gambit just waved her through the now open door.
"Find a phone." He told her as he barricaded the door. Rogue blinked, taking in the dark space.
"Did ya know ya were breakin' in ta a motorcycle shop?"
"Oui, I need a new one don't I?" Gambit grinned; "Find a phone chère."
There was one behind the service desk and she dialed the Institute's number. It picked up on the second ring.
"Xavier Institute."
"Bobby! Put Logan on tha phone! Bobby?"
There was a dead silence on the other end. Rogue tried again, but didn't even get a dial tone.
"Great."
"What's wrong?"
Rogue stifled a yell as she spun to face Gambit behind her; she hadn't even heard him. Wolverine would have her head.
"Tha phone died."
"Non…" He started to take the phone when the lights suddenly flashed on.
"Dey've found us!" Gambit grabbed one of the keys from a hook behind the desk and grabbed Rogue's arm.
"Ah'm gonna have a bruise from ya yankin' me around!" she objected angrily.
"Désolé," he told her as he found the bike to go with the key. "Get on," he ordered as he swung himself onto the bike and charged a set of cards, flinging them at the garage door and leaving a smoking hole. Rogue had barely gotten on behind him when he revved the engine, sending them off with the ring of bullets and curses behind them.
Rogue was begrudgingly forced to hang on to Gambit as they raced down the dusk roads at illegal speeds. The last thing she wanted to do was fall off; they hadn't had time to grab helmets in their mad dash to escape the Assassins.
"So why are tha Rippers after me?" She called over the wind.
"Not now chère; is dere a way to de mansion wit'out goin' t' de front? Where dey can't tell where y' goin'?" he asked.
"Yeah…you know tha main road headin' in ta Bayville?"
"Oui."
"Head for it and take tha lower road off it, tha one that looks like it's goin' in tha opposite direction. It'll double back towards tha bay, then there's a path that will take ya ta where tha beach meets tha cliff. There's an entrance ta a tunnel that runs under tha Institute there."
"Dey won't be able to trace dat? If it runs right under it?"
"It's a mile or two off and there's a good chunk of tha town over it. They can't tell where it would go ta, but if we lose them, they won't even know where we went. The entrance is hidden."
There was a wild screeching of tires behind them as an expensive car with tinted windows pulled in to view. Gambit looked over his shoulder and swore.
"Well, we'll work on losin' dem later, r'ight now we better be prayin' dat Julien left his bazooka back in de bayou! Hold on tight!" Gambit sped up and the car attempted to keep pace; there was a bang as a bullet clipped Rogue's shoulder. Gambit swerved and swore again. The adrenaline of the chase pumped through Rogue's veins; it was starting to soak her in a sweat that the sticky air wasn't helping. An idea struck her and she reached into Gambit's pocket.
"What are y' doin' chère?"
"Shut up swamp rat!" she said as she pulled a deck of cards out; "Hold on for a second, Ah'm goin' ta zap you!" Rogue pulled off a glove with her teeth. Brushing her fingers feather-light against Gambit's bare cheek, she felt the bike swerve again as she heard him gasp. There was a tumble of confusion in her head as she concentrated on Gambit's powers, using them to charge a handful of the cards before tossing them behind the bike.
Rogue heard the brakes on the Ripper's car squeal as they realized what was in the road—too late. Rogue listened with satisfaction to the sound of the cards exploding under their tires and Gambit laughed, breathless, stealing a glance back.
"Beautiful chère! Très beau!" He said as he laughed again.
They seemed to have shaken off the Rippers after that and the short drive back to Bayville was uneventful, but Gambit never slowed down, still taking the road to the tunnel. As they drove closer to the cliff, the hologram over the x-marked door flickered out, the door itself opening to let them through.
"They must see us comin' on tha surveillance cameras," Rogue told Gambit.
"Dey aren't goin' t' lynch me on sight are dey?"
"That'll probably depend on tha mood Wolverine is in."
"Je suis un cadavere…" he muttered under his breath.
"What?"
"No'thin' Chére."
The silence that stretched its way down the tunnel with them was more deafening than the magnified roar of the motorcycle. The tunnel started to feel like it would never end when a second x-marked door came into view.
The entrance split open to allow them into a lower part of the Blackbird hangar, driving into a loose half circle of tense X-Men ready for a fight; Jean was in the air already, just behind Scott in full fledged 'Cyclops-mode'. Bobby was iced up, just thrilled to be doing anything with the senior X-men, while Nightcrawler was to the left of the door, crouched, his tail lashing from side to side as he contemplated doing something unpleasant to the ex-acolyte that seemed to have taken an unhealthy interest in his schwester. And of course there was Wolverine, ready to rip off Gambit's head to make up for the last time he got away. Gambit cut off the engine but made no immediate move to get off; with a little bit of a shiver and a groan he leaned down on the handlebars.
It was then, as Rogue saw with horror, she realized she wasn't soaked in sweat.
It was blood.
Gambit's blood.
The bullet that had only grazed her shoulder had gone into his.
"Oh Gawd, Gambit!"
"'S alright chère — it's just a scratch—" he told her.
"What the heck is goin' on here?!" Wolverine snarled, exposed claws gleaming threateningly. Rogue got off the bike as Gambit did the same, a little stiffly. The bewildered X-Men closed ranks slightly.
"Rogue, get back!" Cyclops ordered as he prepared to fire.
"No! Guys—Logan it's alright—ah think…He's not goin' ta cause any trouble, he got me away from some Rippers that were around the mall—k"
"Rippers? Those thugs he got you tangled up with in New Orleans? What's the meaning of this, bub?" Wolverine growled at Gambit.
"Excuse moi—but it's a très long story an' I think I need a band-aid or somethin' fo' dis," he said gesturing to his bleeding shoulder.
"Yer not goin' anywhere until I get some answers!"
"Wolverine." He turned to face Professor Xavier entering in the doorway, "We can certainly spare a few moments to patch Gambit up before receiving our answers. Hank, if you would?"
"Um…of course," Beast cleared his throat. "This way please," he told Gambit as he led him to the med-bay, Professor Xavier following behind them. Wolverine went after the odd procession without invitation muttering to himself, then stopped and turned.
"Stripes, go shower off, change and meet us back in the med-bay," he ordered and left without another word.
Rogue followed him out, fleeing the hangar before her teammates could start to question her and mercifully, no one followed her into the Danger Room lockers. She had to trash her shirt because there was no way the bloodstains were coming out of the fabric. The blood had soaked through to her skin and the sticky feeling made her skin crawl, too much like the bayou scum she'd been covered with from her last encounter with Gambit.
And just like last time, Rogue took her time in the showers, letting the scalding water sear the clinging feeling off her skin, but the shower didn't even budge what was bothering her the most—the swamp rat under her skin.
She hadn't seen him since the disastrous Mardi Gras in New Orleans that ended up with her tangled in Gambit's rescue attempt to save his father. He'd given her a queen of hearts card before she'd left—she still had it tucked away somewhere, it was good luck after all. And aside from attempting to blow her hand off and kidnapping her and having a cocky attitude, he wasn't that bad a guy. She wouldn't exactly call him a friend, but he was okay.
Rogue cleaned and bandaged the bullet graze with the locker room's medical supplies; it wasn't anything so serious that she couldn't manage it herself. The wound made her wonder just who the Rippers had been aiming for, her, or Gambit?
Dressed in the spare X-Men uniform out of her locker, Rogue entered the med-bay to find Logan on a self-assigned post just inside the door. He glanced at her for a second, before he caught her scent and turned his attention to her.
"You're hurt?" He stopped Rogue.
"Ah'm okay."
"Then why can I smell your blood?"
" 'cause Ah got scratched by tha bullet that got Gambit in tha shoulder. It was fine, Ah patched it up, see?" Rogue stretched her collar so he could see the dressing.
"Rogue," he grumbled.
"Ah'm fine. And Ah don't need ya touchin' mah skin either," she added with a step back after noticing the twitch in his fingers. Rogue turned to the room and was greeted by the sight of a shirtless Gambit laying face down on one of the medical tables, and when he heard her approach, he turned his head to give her a slightly drugged smile, even though Beast, in doctor regalia, was poking around in his shoulder with a pair of tweezers.
"Bonjour," he slurred slightly.
"Bonjour ya'self. You goin' ta live swamp rat?" she asked as she took a seat next to the Professor.
"O' course chère."
"Shoot." She jabbed playfully.
"Aw now chère, dat hurts worse den dat bullet did." Beast did something that made him wince and bite back a curse; "Or not," he amended.
"He was quite fortunate actually; the bullet was of a relatively speaking small caliber and avoided anything more serious than some extremely minor damage to the surrounding muscle. Very lucky indeed," Beast mused, "I'm merely insuring that there are no residual bullet fragments remaining in the surrounding tissue."
"How minor 's extremely minor? It'll heal just fine, wont it?" Gambit checked.
"You should suffer no long-term effects from it, though I expect your shoulder will be rather sore for a while," Beast assured him, "it is a mostly superficial injury for its kind, you will have full use of your arm in no time."
"Good. That's good…" Gambit mumbled into his pillow.
"Okay bub, Rogue's here and good ol' doctor Beast says you're not goin' to keel over anytime soon, so start talking. What's all this about those Rippers here in Bayville?" Wolverine was getting agitated.
"Non, not Bayville. Not yet at least…y' told dem everything that happened when I brought y' down to N'awlins before, right chère?" Gambit asked Rogue. Wolverine snickered.
"You mean when you kidnapped her and tricked her into helping you rescue your father? Oh we got the whole story—and I'm still plannin' on paying you back for that." Wolverine stared him down.
"…Those wouldn't be mon words precisely but—what did you tell them about the Ripper's exactly?" He addressed Rogue again.
"Just that they were a rival family of yours."
"Well, it'd be a bit more dan dat… de Rippers also go by another name when dey aren't bein' so subtle, dey also call demselves de Guild o' Assassins. Y' know my family is de T'ieves Guild."
"Good to know, what's that have to do with Rogue?" Wolverine growled.
"I'd get t' dat if y' would quit interuptin' me," Gambit said darkly before continuing. "Fo' as long as I've lived—non, fo' hundreds and hundreds o' years, our two families have been at war—assassins kill t'ieves, t'ieves kill assassins—its been goin' on fo' so long no one even remembers why were fightin' anymore. Things are always…touchy at best, but—can y' even imagine what de tables looked like when the Assassins managed to kidnap de King o' T'ieves and hold him hostage?" Gambit asked.
"Ah thought you said that man was your father?"
"Oui. He is."
"Then what the heck does that make you? The Prince of Thieves?" Rogue scoffed. Gambit chuckled.
"Oui, it does."
"Right, whatever, back to the story Prince Gambit," Wolverine told him.
"Anyway…de point is, here are de Assassins, t'inkin' dey've got a winnin' advantage in dis war an' den here comes one little t'ief, who dey especially don't like I should add, and thanks to some fille dey've never seen before, dat advantage is gone in the matter of an hour. Mad don't even start t' describe it…dey're out fo' y' blood Rogue. Dey want payback."
"Well, it's taken them long enough to figure it out, hasn't it? Why are they coming after her just now?" Wolverine wanted to know.
"It's not 'just now', Wolvie." Wolverine growled slightly at the nickname, but Gambit continued, "Dey hadn't been able to find her. All they knew was I found her while I was up here workin', an' none o' us t'ieves were goin' t' tell dem anythin'; en fait, we been doin' all we can t' keep dem runnin' in circles.
"Why?" Rogue was confused now.
"Why?" Gambit was astonished; "Mon Dieu, chère, you save mon père's life and y' want t' know why? De T'ieves are in y' debt; we owe y'. And o' 'course it helps that mon père is enchanté wit' y' powers; he thinks y' would make a merveilleux t'ief t' have on our side too."
"Not interested."
"Told him as much." Gambit shrugged awkwardly and winced again.
"So you said they couldn't find me. What changed?"
"De X-Men bein' all over de news wit' all dat mess wit' Apocalypse. After dat it didn't take dem long t' figure out where t' start lookin'. Den it was all a matter o' show wit' de T'hieves declarin' y' were under our protection an' de Assassins declarin' y' an official enemy o' dere's an' us both declarin' de threat o' war if either one o' us so much as twitched the wrong way an' all dat other nonsense we waste our time wit'. Dey hadn't been able t' go after you openly wit'out risk o' startin' de war back up, not dat it really matters to dem. O' course, dey were just makin' it harder fo' demselves because Julien wanted to come after y' personally. But dey'd been lookin' fo' a way around everythin', an' we knew dat too…until we found out Julien an' a bunch o' his hommes gave us de slip two or three days ago, that is. I left as soon as I found out t' try t' head him off."
"Alright Cajun, message delivered. You can run back home to your father and tell him we've got things covered from here," Wolverine told him.
"Uh…well, monsieur Wolverine? It isn't goin' t' be quite dat simple," Gambit admitted.
"Why not?"
"Well fo' starters, it probably isn't safe fo' me t' go back yet. At least not until I contact mon family."
"Because?"
"Julien and I…have somewhat o' a history between us. I don't doubt dat he'll try to make it look like I attacked him fo' no reason—say I got in de way o' a mark or something to make it look like I broke treaty. I need t' know what 'm headin' back t' first. Or else I'll be dead the moment I step foot back in N'awlins."
"That ain't exactly our problem. Got anything else?"
"Oui, I do. Secondly…it's 'cause I've dragged Rogue into dis wit'out meanin' t' an' that's mon fault—and I owe it to her to make up fo' dat an' de little…slight o' hand I pulled on her."
"Meaning?"
"I made myself Rogue's guild-law official guardian t'ief, so to say." He grinned in a way that made Wolverine's sheathed claws twitch.
"Oh no! You not goin' to be anywhere near her bub! I—"
"Logan," Xavier spoke for the first time since Gambit started his story. "I believe Gambit's story thus far. I think the details of this rather…complicated arrangement can be worked through tomorrow—after all, it is getting rather late. In the mean time, Gambit, you are welcomed to stay in one of our guest rooms for the night."
"WHAT?" Rogue's and Wolverine's protests started at the same time.
"Charles, you've got to be kidding—"
"Professor, he's one of Magneto's lackeys—"
"Enough. It's his choice. Gambit?"
"…Merci, Professor Xavier. I would appreciate that…and it's Remy. Remy LeBeau, not Gambit."
"Alright Remy. Hank, when you are done here would you bring him to a room upstairs?"
"Certainly. I'm just finishing with the bandages," he said and the Professor gave a little nod.
"Goodnight to you all then. We'll talk more in the morning." Professor Xavier left and after a second and a growl in Gambit's direction, Wolverine followed. Rogue wasn't far behind him when Gambit called out to her.
"Chère?" Rogue turned; Gambit was sitting up now, staring at her.
"T'ought y' might like t' know I wasn't one o' bucket head's lackeys. It was…a rather awkward…contract."
"Like Ah care?" she told him. Gambit merely tilted his head, suddenly interested in his trench coat. He swore.
"De bâtard ruined mon favorite coat…" he muttered. Rogue left the room, catching the tail end of the Professor and Logan's conversation as Xavier got on the elevator.
"—Chuck, one of these days, that 'faith in the good of people' that you've got? It's goin' to come back and bite you."
"Well my friend, it certainly has worked out for the better this far, wouldn't you agree?"
Wolverine saw Rogue coming over his shoulder and didn't get to say anything else before the elevator doors closed.
"Hey Stripes?"
"Yeah?"
"If he puts one toe out of line around you," Wolverine jerked his head back towards the med-bay to indicate Gambit, "you just call me and I'll come chop up the Swamp Rat and make gumbo outta him, okay?" That got a small smile out of Rogue.
"Sure Logan."
-----xXx-----
A/N: I'll apologize in advance if anyone thinks I've butchered Gambit's speech; I live far enough south that I have a bit of a southern accent, so I know how Rogue should sound, as for Gambit though, I've never really heard anyone with a Cajun accent, so I'm going off of what I have heard, a little bit of research, and how he sounds in my head. All most all of my French comes from freetranslation . com, so I blame them if it's wrong!
Another note, I'm treating nothing from any X-Men comic as cannon unless it appeared in the show or is otherwise used in this fic. Why? Because I strongly insist the Evo is an AU, and I'm calling on my creative license to have a little fun here...and I practically know zilch about the comics anyway.
Feed the plot bunnies! Leave a review; constructive criticism and deserved flames both welcomed!