Remy LeBeau, master thief, former X-men known as Gambit, sat in a small cafe off the French Quarter. A plate of good warm food was easing chill of the winter weather that had been gnawing mercilessly on his bones. He watched the patrons with mild interest, noting anyone who would be promising. It was then that he noticed a girl. Probably not much older than eighteen. Too young for him, but that wasn't what had interested him. She moved through the crowd with a graceful ease. Her clothes weren't grubby enough that she stuck out, but they were worn to the point they wouldn't keep the cold out. Everything about her made her appear average, ordinary, and unremarkable; except the fact she didn't have shoes.
He set down his fork and watched the girl slide up behind a much wealthier patron. She lifted his wallet in a motion that was smoother than the best whiskey. Moving away she opened the wallet and Remy caught a glance of a bunch of cash. What fool carried so much cash, he wondered. The girl skimmed over the crisp new hundred dollar bills and went for a few twenties that had been stuffed haphazardly behind the hundreds. She completely ignored the swanky cards that probably had a fortune on them. Then she closed the wallet and snuck it back into the man's pocket.
The girl was smart, he had to give her that. Obviously she had a bit of skill with that clever brain, either that or experience had been a good teacher. So why did someone who was clearly good not have shoes? If she was part of the Guild they would have at least seen to it she had a pair of shoes. If she wasn't then that could mean even more trouble for her; the Guild didn't suffer those who stole in their neck of the woods. His mind circled back to the lack of shoes. How had no one noticed, he wanted to know. Sure this was a big city, he thought, but people were friendly, they noticed things like that. Besides, it was too damn cold to not have shoes. It was that thought that decided him. He found the girl again, just in time to see her rabbit out the back door. He sighed and threw down his money and a decent tip of the nice waitress.
Weaving his way through the cafe he made his way to the back door. He was blasted with cold air when he opened the door. Damn it was cold. A small voice in the back of his mind whispered that it was probably colder without shoes. He stuffed that thought back and scanned the crowd. He caught a flash of the girl's hair in the crowd and he followed at a distance. As he followed he had to admire the girl. She moved swiftly with people around her, seeming completely unnoticeable except the few people she stopped to chat with. It was more difficult to follow a girl who seemed to be able melt into crowds than he would have liked to admit. It was only when she stepped out that he could keep up.
This time it was an old woman carrying some boxes up to her house. The girl stopped and offered her a helping hand. The woman smiled and nodded allowing the girl to grab a box and help her carry everything inside her house. As the two came back outside he watched as the girl slipped a twenty in the woman's dress pocket when she turned to lock up.
Then she was off again. Moving down the cobblestone roads the girl made several stops each time she spoke with someone and either left them something or helped them in some small way. Yet none of the people she helped noticed she didn't have shoes. Was he the only one who noticed, he wondered, and if he didn't know better he'd say this child had a talent for disappearing. It was right about that moment when she stopped at small convenience store. Walking in behind her he pretended to look at magazines while watching her reflection in the glass. She went to the small selection of canned food and picked up twelve cans of tuna. Then she grabbed a premade sandwich and finally paid for everything with her last twenty. Then she headed out. He waited until she had walked past his window before following her back out onto the street.
The sun was setting and Remy recognized the way they were walking. He watched as she headed straight to the closed park. She secured her stuff inside her jacket before launching herself up the wrought iron fence. Scaling it seemed to be easy even with twelve cans banging against her chest. He could turn around head back to his hotel room right now. This was none of his business, he reminded himself. A breeze whistled through the darkening city and he shivered. It was really cold. He sighed already knowing he wouldn't leave the girl to fend the elements on her own. Agilely he made his way over the simple fence. It wasn't like there was anything really keeping him out.
It took him a moment to find her. Most of the lamp posts weren't working. She was huddled by a bush next to one of many broken lights. He almost gasped out loud when he saw her. She was surrounded by dozens of stray cats. He had seen painting of queens holding court over elegant silks and bountiful food. This girl in her worn clothes managed to look more regal than any one in fine clothes ever had. The mangy animals that surrounded her gave her their complete attention like a loyal court. Each sat around her patiently waiting. Waiting, he wondered, waiting for what? Then the girl dragged out her bag and started popping open cans of tuna. He thought the cats would fall upon them as she opened but they remained sitting around her she set the cans out. Each was set out so there was a considerable distance between each can. Probably to ensure none of the creatures around her fought over food. But watching them now he doubted that would be a problem. Once every can was set out she pulled out her sandwich then gestured to cans.
"Help yourselves."
The cats made small noises before they fell upon their food. Two or three faces to a can. Only once all of the scruffy animals around her had started eating did she start munching on her sandwich. She must have been hungry because the first half was gone in four bites. Remy was so absorbed in the oddity before him that he was startled when something rubbed up against his ankle. A big old tomcat strutted around him, eyeing him suspiciously. Taking in the little war veteran he saw both its ears were tattered. Scars ran over his body cutting into its oddly silky fur. The worst scar ran from right next to his left eye back across his cheek and continued all the way down the cat's sleek body to his hind leg. It looked like someone had tried slicing him in half.
The cat stuck up his nose and made his way over to the girl. He walked around her as if inspecting her for injuries before flopping down into her lap. He meowed plaintively to her. She took the other half of her sandwich and ripped a good sized chunk of it before laying it down in front of him. The cat sniffed, then to Remy's surprise, he gobbled it up almost as quickly as the girl ate what was left of the sandwich.
"Where have you been?" she asked the cat as she scratched behind his ears. That cat purred like a little engine before making a sound that sounded more like a squeak than a meow. The girl looked up and found Remy, "You're right, we do have a guest."