Disclaimer: Marvel owns these characters, I don't, poor me. Don't sue me, I got massive student loans and I work retail, so it wouldn't do you any good.
Hide and Seek
Remy felt her presence long before he saw her. 'Course he couldn't blame the kid, she was used to being masked by darkness, strange echoes, and worse smells. Out in the open like this, there were trees, and it was dark, but he knew these grounds like the inner workings of a timed lock. And there were those nifty spatial awareness abilities that everyone forgot about - sneaking up on him was just about impossible.
Stopping under his favorite tree, Gambit lit a cigarette and leaned back to let the smoke slide into his lungs, through his sinuses, and back out his nostrils, while he waited for her. When she was just five feet back and his cig was almost out, he pinched it out between his fingers, tossed it aside, pulled his boe staff from his sleeve, extended it to its full length, flipped it into the air, turned toward her, flipped once, caught the staff, and planted it in the ground inches from her toes.
"Sarah, petite', what you be doin' out tonight?
"Following you."
"Clearly, what for?"
"Just 'cause."
He grinned, "Just 'cause you wan' give me some flowers or sometin'? Just 'cause you wan' stick one of dem bone knives in me?" By the light of the glowing staff he saw her look angry, and to his surprise, hurt.
"No." she said, and as he watched her eyes seemed to lose focus, then relaxes. The bone growths in her face, coming from her shoulders, covering her knees and other parts of her body sank into her skin and disappeared. Her eyes met his; "I don't need to use them here."
"Nice trick petite'. Where you learn to do dat?"
"Its not a trick, I'm controlling my powers-knew you wouldn't care." She turned and started to walk away, but Gambit was suddenly in front of her. It was as if she hadn't turned around.
"Good to know de Prof. still useful to some of us. What you want wid Gambit now?"
She held a wary stance and a couple of her bones slipped through her skin to show at the joints, "You're like the old man: you walk around the corner in the mansion and just disappear. I wanted to see where you went."
"Never gonna be any good at followin' folks if you keep makin' dat much noise."
"Yeah? Well, that's that then. I found you, that's all I wanted." This time she simply pushed past him to go back to the house. She stalked away, wondering why she bothered with him. O.k., so, he'd saved her life, so what? He'd saved her because he'd nearly killed her. Never mind that she couldn't get the memory of his lean arms under her as he carried her out of her head, that didn't matter.
"You didn't find me petite', I found you."
She spun around to find him gone and not a single noise to betray where. "Damn upworlder pretty boy, thinks he's so cool..." she muttered under her breath.
From the trees behind her, between her and the mansion, came the ripple of his laughter, "Ah Sarah, you too kind. Gambit not really dat much to look at, tink you can find me? You welcome to try." He laughed again and the sound of it moved through the trees as though he were somehow climbing between them like a monkey, without making a sound.
With a nasty, wet crunching sound, Sarah pulled two knives from her shoulders. "Run sun creature, it won't do you any good."
It took two days. Bobby won nearly 100 dollars off the others, and Warren was particularly upset. He'd been sure that the Cajun would weary of the game long before the girl found him. Rogue had refused to bet; more than a little upset that Gambit would even do this to Sarah (and not a little jealous of the time he was spending at it). Scott fumed for half a day until Jean patted his arm and explained that Gambit had decided to give the girl a little training that might be useful instead of just an exercise for her aggression.
On the morning of the second day Sarah was too tired to be angry anymore. But she was stubborn enough to want to find him. At last she began to listen to the hints he gave her, holding still and listening to the noises the birds and other animals made in order to distinguish them from each other. Once she was able to do that, it took just two more hours to recognize the sound of his trench coat. Then finding him took just under five hours. Holding absolutely still under a bush, she finally heard him drop out of a tree and walk past her. She stepped out behind him and tapped him on the shoulder with one of her knives. "Tag, you're it."
Gambit spun around and both bones lit up with his signature pink kinetic glow. Then he flipped them out of her hands and up into the air, where they exploded harmlessly. He grinned down at her, "You got lesson number one petite'. Listen to everything, now you gotta learn lesson number two. Be prepared, no matter who you fightin' or how long you been at it."
"You think I couldn't take you?! I could kill you with my bare hands right now."
"Welcome to go ahead and try." He stood easy, seemingly unconcerned about her threat. And he didn't even look tired! His constant five o'clock shadow was thicker than usual, but aside from that, Sarah couldn't see any difference, not even his body odor had changed. She, on the other hand, looked dead on her feet. Her pink hair was greasy and wild, dark circles ringed her eyes, and she felt an uncomfortable fog on her brain. Still, if there was one thing she was good at, it was killing.
With a snarl she leapt straight up into the air and twisted sideways to come at him from above and behind. New bone knives appeared as if by magic. She came down shrieking an angry war cry, but there was no one there to attack. Gambit was five feet away, leaning on his staff, smoking a cigarette.
"Impressive chere'. Dat work good wid de newbies who come here, but de heavy hitters jus' gon' laugh at you."
"O.k. then, how do YOU fight after 48 hours with no sleep?"
"Personally, if I don' have no one to protect, I run away."
"WWHHAAATTT?!"
"Unless you wid de team where you gotta escape, or goin' after a pinch, or protecting some one, fightin' when you tired ain't worth it." Remy laid a hand on her shoulder. "Fun game, Sarah, maybe we dance again some day."
She shoved his hand off, "You kept me out here for THREE days, and now you are just gonna leave?!"
"Oui petite'. I teach you how to find me by listening, dat be a valuable lesson. You wan' to learn more from Gambit, you gonna hafta let me sleep a little." He collapsed his staff and slipped it inside his coat, and then turned towards the house, "You should sleep too, you look pretty out girl."
"You didn't teach me anything, I could have found you sooner if I wanted to, I just wanted to wear you down."
He laughed, still walking away, forcing her to follow him. "Yeah? And who de one dat look like dey been run trough six weeks of marine training in t'ree days? Me or you chere'?" He smiled at her and she realized that he not only looked clean, he smelled it. The beard growth was simply from skipping shaving.
"You have slept! And you've had a shower too." She stopped walking and stared at him in shock.
He stopped to humor her. "Oui, I was de one being hunted, not de other way around. I know places here dat you can hide and never be found." He laughed at her surprised expression. "Gambit not a hunter, petite'. I'm a t'ief. I know how to hide right next to some one and listen to dem set de combination to der safe. I can fight a room full of guards at once, and get away wid de loot. Dey all survive de encounter wid me, cause de t'ief only der to steal, not to kill. De professional t'ief, he never kill a guard, de master, a guard never know he der." The red eyes gleamed with a wicked light and he stood there, waiting for her.
Sneaking was a new concept for Sarah. Normally, she just barged in and took what she wanted. "You never kill?"
A flash of pain so fleeting Sarah couldn't be sure she saw it flickered across his face. He shook his head. "Non, de killin', dat for de worthless assassin scum." He started walking again, but kept talking, "Getting in and out de place wit'out de bein' seen - dat de whole fun of de pinch. Works de same for fightin'. Take down a room fulla people and walk away wit'out a scratch, and dey gotta go home and tell people how one guy kicked all der asses - not'in like it petite'." He smiled, sweetness and cruelty all in one expression. "Ain't not'in in all de world like winnin' a fight and watchin' de loser's friends laugh at him and give you de thumbs up."
Marrow fought the urge to grin along with him. Instead, she suddenly yawned so widely her jaw cracked. Gambit grinned and put an arm around her. "Ya did good, petite'! Very hard to catch ol' Remy. After a good night's sleep, if you wan', I teach you to sneak into de mansion at night."
She perked back up, "Really? How could any of us get in the mansion? Isn't security geared to each of us?"
"Yeah, and dere's lotsa X-men dat don't sleep much, so its extra fun. No more questions petite', Gambit exhausted."
Scott didn't look up from his paper as Gambit walked into the kitchen and began pouring himself a cup of coffee. "You're up early this morning."
"Yah, went to bed early. Nice to see de sun on de eastern side of de sky for a change."
"I'd think you'd turn into a pile of ash at the first touch of its rays."
Remy froze in the act of dropping the second blueberry pop tart into the toaster, "Cyke, you feelin' O.K.? I tink dat was a joke."
"Not a very good one, I don't hear you laughing."
"De first time always a shock. Next time Gambit be ready mon ami." He turned around, not laughing, but smiling broadly over the rim of his coffee cup.
Scott raised his cup (which was giant, black, used by no one else on pain of death, and read THE BIG DOG in white letters along the side) in mock salute. "One night's missed sleep and you have to go to bed early? Are you getting old?"
Gambit did laugh then and hissed as he lifted and dropped his hot pastry onto a plate. He looked thoughtfully at them a moment then opened another package and dropped two more into the toaster (chocolate this time). He set his coffee on the table and then got out a jug of milk to set beside it, along with a glass. Adding the chocolate tarts to the plate he brought it over and took a seat across from Scott, pouring the milk almost to the rim of the glass. Remy broke apart the pastry and began eating the pieces, mixing the two kinds.
Scott decided he knew exactly why the mansion's grocery bill was so high as the Cajun finished his second glass of milk, poured a third and got up to refill his coffee. "How the hell do you eat all that and end up skinnier than me LeBeau?" Scott goggled at the other man as he added pop tarts five and six to his empty plate.
Remy smiled and bit off half of a tart and drank down his milk. He patted his flat stomach, "Gotta put on some weight in case Roughie get mad at Gambit again."
He ignored the reference. "You could save on dishwashing if you just drank it from the jug." Scott watched Remy pour the last of the milk into his glass, shaking the container over the glass and then sucking on the opening to get the last drops.
"What a ting to suggest mon ami?! Gambit not a savage." He lifted the empty plate to his mouth and licked off the crumbs. Standing, he walked to the counter and paused thoughtfully, looking at the open box where six packages remained (Jean wasn't stupid, she always bought in bulk.) Remy shook his head regretfully and put his glass and plate in the dishwasher muttering, "Non, Bobby got to eat sometimes too."
"Did you enjoy torturing Sarah this week? I wasn't aware two night sleep hiatus was part of our training."
Gambit sat again with his forth cup of coffee, a large bowl of frosted flakes and another jug of milk. He poured half a package of raisins into the bowl, surveyed it, shrugged, and dumped on the rest. He added milk and sprinkled on sugar until you almost couldn't see the cereal. "We gotta start doin' tings besides beatin' up robots in da danger room. Sarah jus' get bored wid dat and give up. I teach her on de sly like and she be payin' attention and learnin' tings for a change."
Scott wondered just what the other man planned to do today that would possibly use up all that sugar. "So you are fooling her into thinking you're cheating, when actually you are trying to keep her interest?"
He nodded and lifting his bowl, tilted it to drink the rest of the milk, finishing off his breakfast like a good boy. "O' course. Dat be de only way."
"And what you're teaching her will truly be useful?"
Remy froze in the act of putting his bowl in the dishwasher, then set it carefully in place and shut the door. He straightened up, his back still to the older man and sighed, "You tink you could've taught her to listen better? Jus' let Gambit know and he go home tomorrow."
"No Remy, I'm sorry, don't get so defensive. I'm not questioning your teaching abilities, I'm asking if teaching the girl to be a thief will be useful in fighting with a team." Scott mentally cursed himself for putting the Cajun's back up.
"Not teachin' her how to be a t'ief, teachin' her fightin's not important, or not as important as she tink it be."
"O.k., I'll buy that. What are you teaching her then?"
"Getting out alive wid your team intact, getting de information ya supposed to get wid'out no one knowin' be harder den killin' everyone, but much more fun."
Scott nodded, "Yeah if we could only teach all the others that too."
Remy reached into the pocket of his cargo pants and to Scott's stunned disbelief, pulled out a state of the art palm pilot, "When should Gambit pencil dem in?"
FINIS
Hide and Seek
Remy felt her presence long before he saw her. 'Course he couldn't blame the kid, she was used to being masked by darkness, strange echoes, and worse smells. Out in the open like this, there were trees, and it was dark, but he knew these grounds like the inner workings of a timed lock. And there were those nifty spatial awareness abilities that everyone forgot about - sneaking up on him was just about impossible.
Stopping under his favorite tree, Gambit lit a cigarette and leaned back to let the smoke slide into his lungs, through his sinuses, and back out his nostrils, while he waited for her. When she was just five feet back and his cig was almost out, he pinched it out between his fingers, tossed it aside, pulled his boe staff from his sleeve, extended it to its full length, flipped it into the air, turned toward her, flipped once, caught the staff, and planted it in the ground inches from her toes.
"Sarah, petite', what you be doin' out tonight?
"Following you."
"Clearly, what for?"
"Just 'cause."
He grinned, "Just 'cause you wan' give me some flowers or sometin'? Just 'cause you wan' stick one of dem bone knives in me?" By the light of the glowing staff he saw her look angry, and to his surprise, hurt.
"No." she said, and as he watched her eyes seemed to lose focus, then relaxes. The bone growths in her face, coming from her shoulders, covering her knees and other parts of her body sank into her skin and disappeared. Her eyes met his; "I don't need to use them here."
"Nice trick petite'. Where you learn to do dat?"
"Its not a trick, I'm controlling my powers-knew you wouldn't care." She turned and started to walk away, but Gambit was suddenly in front of her. It was as if she hadn't turned around.
"Good to know de Prof. still useful to some of us. What you want wid Gambit now?"
She held a wary stance and a couple of her bones slipped through her skin to show at the joints, "You're like the old man: you walk around the corner in the mansion and just disappear. I wanted to see where you went."
"Never gonna be any good at followin' folks if you keep makin' dat much noise."
"Yeah? Well, that's that then. I found you, that's all I wanted." This time she simply pushed past him to go back to the house. She stalked away, wondering why she bothered with him. O.k., so, he'd saved her life, so what? He'd saved her because he'd nearly killed her. Never mind that she couldn't get the memory of his lean arms under her as he carried her out of her head, that didn't matter.
"You didn't find me petite', I found you."
She spun around to find him gone and not a single noise to betray where. "Damn upworlder pretty boy, thinks he's so cool..." she muttered under her breath.
From the trees behind her, between her and the mansion, came the ripple of his laughter, "Ah Sarah, you too kind. Gambit not really dat much to look at, tink you can find me? You welcome to try." He laughed again and the sound of it moved through the trees as though he were somehow climbing between them like a monkey, without making a sound.
With a nasty, wet crunching sound, Sarah pulled two knives from her shoulders. "Run sun creature, it won't do you any good."
It took two days. Bobby won nearly 100 dollars off the others, and Warren was particularly upset. He'd been sure that the Cajun would weary of the game long before the girl found him. Rogue had refused to bet; more than a little upset that Gambit would even do this to Sarah (and not a little jealous of the time he was spending at it). Scott fumed for half a day until Jean patted his arm and explained that Gambit had decided to give the girl a little training that might be useful instead of just an exercise for her aggression.
On the morning of the second day Sarah was too tired to be angry anymore. But she was stubborn enough to want to find him. At last she began to listen to the hints he gave her, holding still and listening to the noises the birds and other animals made in order to distinguish them from each other. Once she was able to do that, it took just two more hours to recognize the sound of his trench coat. Then finding him took just under five hours. Holding absolutely still under a bush, she finally heard him drop out of a tree and walk past her. She stepped out behind him and tapped him on the shoulder with one of her knives. "Tag, you're it."
Gambit spun around and both bones lit up with his signature pink kinetic glow. Then he flipped them out of her hands and up into the air, where they exploded harmlessly. He grinned down at her, "You got lesson number one petite'. Listen to everything, now you gotta learn lesson number two. Be prepared, no matter who you fightin' or how long you been at it."
"You think I couldn't take you?! I could kill you with my bare hands right now."
"Welcome to go ahead and try." He stood easy, seemingly unconcerned about her threat. And he didn't even look tired! His constant five o'clock shadow was thicker than usual, but aside from that, Sarah couldn't see any difference, not even his body odor had changed. She, on the other hand, looked dead on her feet. Her pink hair was greasy and wild, dark circles ringed her eyes, and she felt an uncomfortable fog on her brain. Still, if there was one thing she was good at, it was killing.
With a snarl she leapt straight up into the air and twisted sideways to come at him from above and behind. New bone knives appeared as if by magic. She came down shrieking an angry war cry, but there was no one there to attack. Gambit was five feet away, leaning on his staff, smoking a cigarette.
"Impressive chere'. Dat work good wid de newbies who come here, but de heavy hitters jus' gon' laugh at you."
"O.k. then, how do YOU fight after 48 hours with no sleep?"
"Personally, if I don' have no one to protect, I run away."
"WWHHAAATTT?!"
"Unless you wid de team where you gotta escape, or goin' after a pinch, or protecting some one, fightin' when you tired ain't worth it." Remy laid a hand on her shoulder. "Fun game, Sarah, maybe we dance again some day."
She shoved his hand off, "You kept me out here for THREE days, and now you are just gonna leave?!"
"Oui petite'. I teach you how to find me by listening, dat be a valuable lesson. You wan' to learn more from Gambit, you gonna hafta let me sleep a little." He collapsed his staff and slipped it inside his coat, and then turned towards the house, "You should sleep too, you look pretty out girl."
"You didn't teach me anything, I could have found you sooner if I wanted to, I just wanted to wear you down."
He laughed, still walking away, forcing her to follow him. "Yeah? And who de one dat look like dey been run trough six weeks of marine training in t'ree days? Me or you chere'?" He smiled at her and she realized that he not only looked clean, he smelled it. The beard growth was simply from skipping shaving.
"You have slept! And you've had a shower too." She stopped walking and stared at him in shock.
He stopped to humor her. "Oui, I was de one being hunted, not de other way around. I know places here dat you can hide and never be found." He laughed at her surprised expression. "Gambit not a hunter, petite'. I'm a t'ief. I know how to hide right next to some one and listen to dem set de combination to der safe. I can fight a room full of guards at once, and get away wid de loot. Dey all survive de encounter wid me, cause de t'ief only der to steal, not to kill. De professional t'ief, he never kill a guard, de master, a guard never know he der." The red eyes gleamed with a wicked light and he stood there, waiting for her.
Sneaking was a new concept for Sarah. Normally, she just barged in and took what she wanted. "You never kill?"
A flash of pain so fleeting Sarah couldn't be sure she saw it flickered across his face. He shook his head. "Non, de killin', dat for de worthless assassin scum." He started walking again, but kept talking, "Getting in and out de place wit'out de bein' seen - dat de whole fun of de pinch. Works de same for fightin'. Take down a room fulla people and walk away wit'out a scratch, and dey gotta go home and tell people how one guy kicked all der asses - not'in like it petite'." He smiled, sweetness and cruelty all in one expression. "Ain't not'in in all de world like winnin' a fight and watchin' de loser's friends laugh at him and give you de thumbs up."
Marrow fought the urge to grin along with him. Instead, she suddenly yawned so widely her jaw cracked. Gambit grinned and put an arm around her. "Ya did good, petite'! Very hard to catch ol' Remy. After a good night's sleep, if you wan', I teach you to sneak into de mansion at night."
She perked back up, "Really? How could any of us get in the mansion? Isn't security geared to each of us?"
"Yeah, and dere's lotsa X-men dat don't sleep much, so its extra fun. No more questions petite', Gambit exhausted."
Scott didn't look up from his paper as Gambit walked into the kitchen and began pouring himself a cup of coffee. "You're up early this morning."
"Yah, went to bed early. Nice to see de sun on de eastern side of de sky for a change."
"I'd think you'd turn into a pile of ash at the first touch of its rays."
Remy froze in the act of dropping the second blueberry pop tart into the toaster, "Cyke, you feelin' O.K.? I tink dat was a joke."
"Not a very good one, I don't hear you laughing."
"De first time always a shock. Next time Gambit be ready mon ami." He turned around, not laughing, but smiling broadly over the rim of his coffee cup.
Scott raised his cup (which was giant, black, used by no one else on pain of death, and read THE BIG DOG in white letters along the side) in mock salute. "One night's missed sleep and you have to go to bed early? Are you getting old?"
Gambit did laugh then and hissed as he lifted and dropped his hot pastry onto a plate. He looked thoughtfully at them a moment then opened another package and dropped two more into the toaster (chocolate this time). He set his coffee on the table and then got out a jug of milk to set beside it, along with a glass. Adding the chocolate tarts to the plate he brought it over and took a seat across from Scott, pouring the milk almost to the rim of the glass. Remy broke apart the pastry and began eating the pieces, mixing the two kinds.
Scott decided he knew exactly why the mansion's grocery bill was so high as the Cajun finished his second glass of milk, poured a third and got up to refill his coffee. "How the hell do you eat all that and end up skinnier than me LeBeau?" Scott goggled at the other man as he added pop tarts five and six to his empty plate.
Remy smiled and bit off half of a tart and drank down his milk. He patted his flat stomach, "Gotta put on some weight in case Roughie get mad at Gambit again."
He ignored the reference. "You could save on dishwashing if you just drank it from the jug." Scott watched Remy pour the last of the milk into his glass, shaking the container over the glass and then sucking on the opening to get the last drops.
"What a ting to suggest mon ami?! Gambit not a savage." He lifted the empty plate to his mouth and licked off the crumbs. Standing, he walked to the counter and paused thoughtfully, looking at the open box where six packages remained (Jean wasn't stupid, she always bought in bulk.) Remy shook his head regretfully and put his glass and plate in the dishwasher muttering, "Non, Bobby got to eat sometimes too."
"Did you enjoy torturing Sarah this week? I wasn't aware two night sleep hiatus was part of our training."
Gambit sat again with his forth cup of coffee, a large bowl of frosted flakes and another jug of milk. He poured half a package of raisins into the bowl, surveyed it, shrugged, and dumped on the rest. He added milk and sprinkled on sugar until you almost couldn't see the cereal. "We gotta start doin' tings besides beatin' up robots in da danger room. Sarah jus' get bored wid dat and give up. I teach her on de sly like and she be payin' attention and learnin' tings for a change."
Scott wondered just what the other man planned to do today that would possibly use up all that sugar. "So you are fooling her into thinking you're cheating, when actually you are trying to keep her interest?"
He nodded and lifting his bowl, tilted it to drink the rest of the milk, finishing off his breakfast like a good boy. "O' course. Dat be de only way."
"And what you're teaching her will truly be useful?"
Remy froze in the act of putting his bowl in the dishwasher, then set it carefully in place and shut the door. He straightened up, his back still to the older man and sighed, "You tink you could've taught her to listen better? Jus' let Gambit know and he go home tomorrow."
"No Remy, I'm sorry, don't get so defensive. I'm not questioning your teaching abilities, I'm asking if teaching the girl to be a thief will be useful in fighting with a team." Scott mentally cursed himself for putting the Cajun's back up.
"Not teachin' her how to be a t'ief, teachin' her fightin's not important, or not as important as she tink it be."
"O.k., I'll buy that. What are you teaching her then?"
"Getting out alive wid your team intact, getting de information ya supposed to get wid'out no one knowin' be harder den killin' everyone, but much more fun."
Scott nodded, "Yeah if we could only teach all the others that too."
Remy reached into the pocket of his cargo pants and to Scott's stunned disbelief, pulled out a state of the art palm pilot, "When should Gambit pencil dem in?"
FINIS