A/N- Well this is my very first X-Men fanfic-in fact this is my very first non HSM fanfic-so i hope you guys like it! I thought it would be a challange to do something new!
A big thanks to the girlies on Taylor Kitsch Fanforum who have been supportive and encouraging with this story and for answering all the questions i asked!
and a Huge thanks to 'Twin'-Ang (go read her fanfics: angkeats...FAB) who not only is my beta reader but also my x-men namer and she helped bounce ideas around with me until i came up with a story idea :)
hope you enjoy!!!
Remy LeBeau crouched in the darkened alley, his overly large black coat brushing the ground and seeping the rainwater into the cloth. His breathing was even, wisps of the cold night air billowed out in front of him on every exhale and his pure hazel eyes stayed locked on his target. The three men across the road were just leaving the tall rise building after their usual Monday night poker match. By the joking and the laughing coming from the three of them it seemed they all had had a very lucky evening. The small stout one handed his two friends an expensive fat cigar each, clipping the end of his before placing it in his mouth and lighting it with a solid silver lighter. The silver glinted in the moonlight and Remy's eyes followed the reflection as it highlighted over the man's features. He could tell from his haircut to his classy clothes that the man was filthy rich. It excited Remy to think of what he could gain from tonight's escapade and a sly grin crept over his face without haste.
At only the age of eleven he was taller than his fellow guild members and much to the pleasure of Jean-luc LeBeau; his adoptive father, he was the most agile and alert thief he had yet to come across. It was only one day when he had been the target of Remy's pick pocketing skills that he had witnessed a boy as young as him to be as skilled and lithe. It was then that he quickly decided to take Remy off the streets and adopt him into his family.
Remy was on the verge of turning away and returning home. He knew he shouldn't really be here, his father usually organised the crime he had to partake in but the old urge to pick pocket still roamed deep within him. His father claimed pick pocketing was beneath him now and that he had bigger and more important crimes to be involved in but to Remy pick pocketing was more than a petty crime. To him pick pocketing was a sense of power, a sense of independence, something he could do alone and have full credit for. It was the life he'd been used to and it was the life that still burned bright, the life that still drove him to secretly disobey his orders. And the life that now stopped him from turning his back on this opportunity before him. This was no coincidence though, this was premeditated. Remy had stalked his prey for the past two months, watching the coming and going from within the building, watching where the men split up after coming out, watching where the loot was kept. Mental notes were made each week until he'd finally decided he was ready to pounce, he was ready to accomplish.
The men shook hands before one got into his parked car, one turned right and headed around the corner and the smallest one-still smoking his cigar- pulled the collar up on his coat and headed up another dark alley. Remy silently stood up straight, taking his fingerless gloves out of his pocket he hurriedly pulled them on before stepping out onto the street. His footsteps were as soundless as the night and his steps mirrored that of his target. He knew exactly where the man kept his wallet, lighter and sometimes his watch. It was the most unsafe place to keep valuables but obviously this guy thought he was beyond theft. Remy's pace picked up and his heart beat faster with the thrill of the chase, his mind completely focused now on the man in front and nothing else was evident to him. His right hand began to lift as he walked in a crouch so no shadow would show on the brick walls surrounding them, his breathing and footsteps as silent as ever, no-one would know he was even there. Slipping his fingers into the back pocket of the man's black trench coat, they clasped around the wallet and as gracefully as a butterfly in flight his fingers emerged without a trace of ever entering. It was only when he looked down and noticed that this was no wallet; in fact it was a pack of playing cards, that he made the first noise of the night. A sort of irritated gurgle came from his throat and before he knew it the man had whipped around and grasped Remy around the scruff of his collar, pulling him off his feet.
"You thief," he snarled, his grip tightening, evidently stronger than he looked. "Not a very good one though, eh son," he added, his face sneering as he noticed all Remy had in his hand was the cards he always carried on a Monday. "You piece of dirt, I bet your useless in everything you do aren't you?"
Every word the man spoke infuriated Remy more and more, his fists clenching as he wriggled and squirmed in the man's grip.
"Bet your mother's a beggar too, you good for nothing failure." The words swirled in Remy's mind making him see red, the anger burned from the tip of his toes right up to the top of his head. He could feel the red warmth spreading and a powerful surge roared through his body. Before he had time to think he raised his right hand, noticing the fear in the man's eyes and flung the pack of cards at him. The flash of purple stunned him and he was dropped to the ground as the impact of the cards sent the man hurtling down the alleyway. Remy looked down at his shaking hands and reeled at the sight of the burning red tips of his fingers, his breathing now coming in gasps as his head pounded with energy. There was no sound from the man lying sprawled in the middle of the lane and the cards lay splattered and crumpled around him.
What the hell had just happened to him? The man had looked at him in pure fear. Looked at a boy of eleven with pure fear in his eyes and for why? What had he looked like when the rage overtook him? All he had to do was look around, the evidence was clear; he had just knocked out a 16 stone man with a pack of playing cards. Remy's head swam as the images filled his mind and before he could try and work out what had just occurred, his world went blank.
****
"Let's get this shit started," a voice drawled form the doorway, it was as smooth as honey with a Cajun roughness around the edges and its owner sauntered into the room with an air of cockiness surrounding him.
"Ah you've finally graced us with your presence, LeBeau," one of the men already sat behind the table spoke, slight irritation marred his otherwise cool personal and he motioned with his hand to the one remaining empty seat. Remy took his place and leaned back casually in the chair, his feet wide apart and his elbows propped up on the armrests. His laidback approach grated on all the other men in the room and a spark of energy crackled from one of the far corners.
"Apologies men but you know how it is, I got a little caught up with a beautiful lady," he half heartedly explained, his smile not quite reaching his eyes.
Remy eyed the man opposite him and the long black trench coat he was wearing instantly took him back to the first time he realised he had special talents. That night when he was eleven years old had been the strangest of his life and it took a while before he could come to terms with the fact that he was no longer an ordinary young boy. After leaving the man hurt on the ground he'd ran away as far as he could, barely pausing but strangely still full of energy until he returned home and locked himself away in his room.
Two weeks later he was fully aware of all his powers but it took many years for him to be able to use them to their full strength. And that strength was mighty powerful, shocking even himself until he learned to use it to his gain.
Playing cards and poker had always played a prominent part in Remy's life after that first night. He could inject any object with energy so powerful that it could knock down entire buildings with a single touch, but playing cards were his favourite. He would sit for hours and hours learning tricks and tips and not once since he was eleven years old had he ever lost a game of cards. Everyone from near and far wanted to play against him, wanted to beat the best but Remy could not be beaten-much to his pleasure.
"Apology accepted," said Battle, trying with all his might not to just breathe fire out of his mouth and singe LeBeau's precious hair. "Now as you said, let's get this shit started." Before Remy had a chance to say anything Battle shape shifted over to the side of the room, collected a pack of playing cards from Volcano and then shape shifted back to his chair.
"Since when could you do that?" Remy asked, his eyebrows rose in surprise. "You only used to be a fire breathing dragon," he mocked.
"I'm gaining new powers my friend," Battle replied, a steam of smoke barely visible escaping from his nostrils at the dig Remy had just given him. The word 'friend' had an added bite to the end that implied they were anything but. "Now remember this game is fair play, no powers are allowed here."
"Yep, I got it." Remy rubbed his hands together, his fingers twitching to get hold of the cards. He didn't need his powers to win a game of poker. Most of the time he would always play fair as his opponents were ordinary men trying to earn a quick buck. His powers only came into play if he got mad and to be honest that rarely happened to him-not when he was playing...and winning.
Battle dealt the first hand of cards much to Remy's displeasure and it wasn't long before money was being won and lost by both parties. The men surrounding the room made sure that everyone was playing fair but from what Remy could see they all seemed to be either friends or acquaintances of Battle's. He'd known that Battle was, as people would call, one of the bad guys but if there was one thing that Remy could not refuse; it was a challenge, a chance for his macho side to show. But now he wondered if there was a reason other than money that Battle had requested this game with him. He looked now at his pile of chips and noticed for the first time that they were dwindling away slowly. He chastised himself for letting his concentration slip but it was too late as Battle noticed his eyes straying and grinned as the realisation hit him.
"You need to practice your poker face," Battle mocked him, his eyes glinting. He ran his hands through his short black hair and the muscles in his arms flexed through the tight fitting vest he wore after shedding his coat. "Why don't I cut you a deal," he offered, his voice sounding like Remy wouldn't win.
"Oh and what's that?" Remy asked him, his hazel eyes piercing into Battle's.
"If you win this next hand you win back all your money you lost and all the money I came here with tonight."
"And if I lose?" He prompted. He didn't like to even ask the question as the prospect of losing was not something he ever needed to think about.
"You have to do something for me." Battle clicked his fingers and one of the larger men floated over to him and handed him a sheet of paper. Something in the exchange told Remy that this wasn't going to be good but he couldn't afford to lose all his money and more importantly he couldn't afford to lose face. "If you lose you have to bring this person to me." He handed Remy the piece of paper and Remy glanced down at the photograph. "Her name's Anna Marie or as we call her 'Rogue'. She has something I need and I'm far too busy to go and find her. But if you're frightened you'll lose...." He let the sentence hang in the air and Remy could feel his hackles starting to rise. He could feel the extra energy start to flow through him and he had to fist his hands, his biceps bunching with the force.
"Let's deal," he almost growled, his eyes filling with red haze as he missed the satisfied smirk on Battle's face.
"Now calm down LeBeau, let's play fair remember," Battle placated, dealing out the cards steadily, wanting to stay on Remy's good side so he could get his way. Taking deep breaths, Remy turned over his cards and looked at his hand, it wasn't the best he'd ever had but he remained straight faced and hoped his luck would change. Turning over the cards in the middle of the table slowly one by one, Battle focused on Remy's face, his own face remaining neutral.
"Are you folding?" He asked with raised eyebrows, knowing that hell would freeze over before Remy admitted defeat.
"Nope." Remy, equally slowly placed his cards down one by one to reveal he had 5, 6, 7, 8, and 9 in different suits.
"Straight huh," said Battle with a hint of false awed surprise. He wanted Remy to secretly think he'd beat him before delivering his blow. "10 of hearts, Jack of hearts, Queen of hearts, King of hearts. And what's this? Ace of hearts! I think you'll find that's a royal flush," he cheered, fisting his hand in triumph.
"What the hell?" Roared Remy, standing up so suddenly that his chair knocked to the ground but as soon as he got to his feet, 4 pairs of hands grabbed his arms and forced them behind his back before he could do any damage. His eyes were now burning bright red and the men holding him could feel the energy pulsing through his body.
"Now, now, LeBeau, I won fair and square. Nobody likes a sore loser." Although he wanted his tone to be mocking, the look in Remy's eyes stopped him from antagonising him further.
"You cheat," he snarled. "I don't owe you nothin'."
"Oh you do! You keep to your side of the bargain or you will pay. You see everyone in this room LeBeau? Not one of them are on you side." Remy looked around him and noticed that every single man in the room looked ready to attack, ready, willing and more than able to attack and he had no idea just how powerful their powers were.
"I kept to my side of the bargain, I played fair. You on the other hand cheated," he roared, his anger burning to a minimum. He knew he should have won, there was no way Battle had won without some form of cheating.
"Can't handle when someone else wins?" Battle mocked, sick to death of Remy's confidence. Remy's eyes flashed red once and the table in front on them smashed into the far wall taking Battle and 4 other men with it. The force was so great that the table crumpled into tiny pieces and the room clouded with dust and falling plaster off the ceiling. The men that had been holding Remy's arms dropped them in shock and he swung around in a circle knocking them all off their feet with his fists. One by one they hurtled to the floor, splinters of wood cracking where they landed with almighty force. Hunched in a crouch he waited to pounce on anyone else that wanted a fight.
Battle slowly raised himself from the ground and looked over at Remy trying to keep the fear from his face. He'd known what Remy was capable of but seeing it first hand, feeling it first, hand had been a whole other thing. He raised his hand to show everyone that no more fighting was to be done and slowly walked forward, keeping his voice as even as he could. "LeBeau let's not get carried away. You can't win all the time and I know you won't go back on your word. Jean-Luc wouldn't be happy if you did."
"How do you know what my father would have wanted?" Remy asked, his breathing laboured and as usual his heart beat quickened at the sound of his late fathers name. Battle edged closer still and came to stop right in front of him. He could tell that Remy's anger was starting to fade and now his features were edged with curiosity.
"I used to be in your father's guild. I always wanted to be the top dog but before i got that chance, you came along. How could anyone compete with that? How could anyone compete with your thieving skills? So i left the group and made my own way in life, but let me tell you, your father was so proud of you and to think that you can call one of your own kind a cheater would be devastating for him." If there was one weak side to Remy, it would be his father's memory. Ever since that night that he'd disobeyed his father's orders and still went out pick pocketing; he'd vowed never to let his father down again. All through the town the death of an innocent man had been speculated and many people pointed the finger at Remy but his father had stuck up for him until the day he'd died and if this Battle guy was right then even in his afterlife he wasn't going to start putting his father's name through the mud.
"So I just get her to come here?" He asked, sighing at the fact that he couldn't prove he'd been shafted and also hating the fact that all guild members had a pact to look out for one another. And although he would never look out for this Battle guy or promise not to hurt him, for now he would keep to his bet.
"She won't come here. You have to make her come here. You have to kidnap her."
"Why? Why do you want her?" He questioned.
"She has powers I want to obtain. And if you don't bring her to me, LeBeau, things might just get very awkward for you. I know what you did that night and i know how your father covered it up. Now tell me, I wonder if anyone else would be interested in hearing about the time you killed a man?"
"Fine, I'll do it." He replied, knowing that at the end of the day he didn't know this Rogue person and he didn't care what happened to her, as long as he was safe then that's all that mattered. Ever since he was a child he learned to put himself first...always.
"It's not going to be easy but if anyone is capable then it's you," Battle praised him and there was nothing more enticing to Remy than a challenge that nobody else could fulfil. "Take your time, stalk her out and bring her back here when you can. But she has to be alive, conscious and unhurt. So you have to get close enough to her to gain her trust."
"How the hell am I supposed to do that?"
"I'm sure you'll find a way." He winked.