King of Thieves
Chapter One: Queen of the Chase
Feb. 20, 2003
Part 1 of 10
Author: Jaded Thief
Author email: gambits_girlfriend@yahoo.com or jaded_thief@hotmail.com
Archive? Ask me first
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I don't own Remy or the X-Men, they belong to Marvel. New Orleans belongs to itself and the United States, and the quote below belongs to William Shakespeare. The unnamed intruder is my own creation, as is the plot. No profit is being made from this work of fiction.
Thanks very very much to Tiara * my beta and to Ocean Spray for making White Cranberry and Peach juice.
Suspicion always haunts the guilty mind;
the thief doth fear each bush an officer.
The lone figure made his way down the empty New Orleans street, trench coat swirling at his feet. Little flickers of light from the streetlamps reflected off the Kevlar suit beneath. The sky had grown dark overhead, stars twinkling into existence above the frantic cities of the world. The figure hastened to the door of an apartment; its features common on the old street. His gait was slow and steady, with feline grace his auburn hair wild and askew. His shoulders slumped slightly, and every so often his foot would send a stone skittering off down the road. Remy LeBeau, known to many as Gambit, was exhausted. The roguish member of the X-Men had returned to his hometown during a brief pause in the X-Men's frantic lives, hoping to find solitude. Busy train stations, crowds of people, and thick traffic jams had slowed his progress considerably, and now all he wanted was to collapse into sleep.
The cold metal of the stairway railing met partially gloved hands, sapping the heat from the bare fingers and merely supporting the rest. Scaling the stone steps with undisguised relief Remy dug into a hidden pocket for the keys. Fumbling, he found the tiny key and unlocked the door, listlessly entering the small, two-story apartment building. It was a Thieves Guild safe house, and one that Remy was certain was empty. Collecting his keys from the lock and closing the door behind him with a soft click, Remy turned to face the closed door. He slipped out of his sweaty trench coat, folding it over his arm and then hanging it on a hook in the foyer. Out of habit, he jiggled the door handle, locking it with ease.
Assured that it was secure, Remy ran a long-fingered hand through his sweat-soaked red-brown hair and turned his attention to the dark hallway. Taking a cautious step forward, his shoes scuffing the wood floor lightly, he flicked the light switch on. After a moments pause, light and the soft hum of electricity filled the hallway. Squinting as his sensitive eyes adjusted to the bright light, Remy ran his hand over his face, the skin of his palm tickled by the stubble on his chin. Heavy eyelids drooped over red-on-black eyes, and his body ached to be set free from its Kevlar prison as he sauntered further into the flat. He stretched his mouth opening into a wide yawn as he did so, and soft cracks emanated from his back as the vertebrae returned to their normal places.
Sighing, he strode towards the stairway at the left end of the hall. Lifting weary feet he began to scale the stairs, kept going only by the promise of a warm bed and a good night's sleep. Beneath him, the wood groaned in loud protest to the weight of his body. He reached the landing and glanced up at the large mirror that hung there, reflecting the front hall. He paused for a moment and gazed into the mirror. His reflection was ragged and brought a tiny grin to his face. His hair was limp and hung in disarray over his eyes and his chin was dark with stubble. Fatigue made his eyes droop just a little, and his face felt grimy with oil. He moved to continue up the stairs, deciding to take a bath before he gave in to sleep. As he turned, in the corner of his eye he caught something amiss in the reflection of the hall.
Movement flickered in the reflection – human movement. His instincts screamed as adrenaline filled him and set him on the defensive. Fear, hidden by ever-present confidence, spurred him to action, but knowledge stopped him from doing anything stupid. He spun back around slowly, pivoting on his heel. Firm and strong hands hung poised, ready to react. His bo staff and cards were within easy reach. Everything seemed to sharpen as he scanned the darkness beyond the foyer's meager light. He berated himself for not noticing danger the instant he stepped into the house. It was an unrealistic demand for him to lie on himself, he knew, but not knowing if someone was there could be the end of you when you were in Remy's line of work. His mind raced with possibilities of the intruder's identity as he kept still, training to hear a sound to confirm his suspicions. A breathe, a sigh, a slip, anything to confirm the movement and give him a solid target.
The soft, single scuff of a leather boot on wood flooring reached his ears, and he had his target. Leaping down the stairs with his usual flair of mixed style and technique, he snatched his staff from its holding place on his thigh. It was fully extended and resting in his well-practiced hands before his feet touched the floor. The fabric of the carpet muffled his landing just as the sharp, scraping sounds of a window being forced open carelessly flew to his ears. Turning sharply, his exhaustion and fatigue forgotten in the prevalence of protecting his home and himself, he saw the sight he'd been expecting: a darkly clad intruder exiting through the window. Slim and quick, the intruder slipped out feet first, one hand holding tight to the sill and the other holding the window aloft. The intruder glanced back through the window and Remy came rushing towards it. The face of the intruder was covered from the cheekbones down with a tight black cowl; the hair and forehead were similarly covered. The only bared part was the intruder's eyes, bright silver and widening with fear as Remy approached. With a sudden jerk, the intruder dropped into the alley beyond the window and let go of the window, letting it slam down loudly into the sill. Remy hoisted it open quickly with one hand, his staff in the other, and leapt through.
He landed in the alley in a deep crouch, left hand hovering near the ground to steady him and the right holding his staff out defensively. The alley was one he knew well, a dead end to his back and the street to the front. The walls were grungy, old, and brick. Rubbish was strewn over the ground -- garbage bags, cardboard boxes, and various other items. Old trash bins abounded, toppled over and dented. The startled screech of a tomcat broke Remy's thoughts, and his eyes swerved to the origin. A crash of one of the many discarded boxes resounded, a muffled curse followed, and finally a glimpse of the intruder bolting out of the alley. The streetlights beyond the narrow alley made circular pools of bright, yellowish light, drawing the eye and making the dark seem ever darker. A tiny discrepancy in one of the circles of illumination caught Remy's eyes and he dashed after it, readying his staff in both hands. He gripped the cold metal tightly, a strange contrast to the warmth of his skin and the dry night air.
Darting through shadows of the familiar French Quarter, the iron railings glinting back the light that leaked through closed shutters, Remy caught sight of the intruder. He dodged past a young couple and narrowly missed smashing head first into a low-hanging potted plant. He was gaining slightly, but only slightly. The intruder dashed through another pool of light and Remy was finally able to assess his opponent. Tall, but not nearly as tall as Remy, the intruder was lithe, muscled, and decidedly female. She was wearing a black outfit that showed no skin; loose black fabric pants and a long t-shirt belted twice at the waist, knee-high leather boots with no heel, elbow-length leather gloves, and the cowl that covered everything except her eyes. The cowl was tight around her face and head but hung loosely about her shoulders, gathered in many layers. Remy had thought the intruder was someone he knew, but he had never seen anyone that resembled her, within the Thieves Guild or out.
Heart pounding as the chase continued, Remy watched as the intruder veered toward another alley. He grinned and decided to finish this race. Leaping up, he flipped over the woman and landed in front of her, one hand holding his staff menacingly while his other hand reached out to stop… nothing? Glancing down the alley expectantly, he saw the figure of the woman fleeing him. "Merde," he cursed bitterly, and then grinned when he noticed that the woman had come to a dead end. "Seems you 'ave no where to go, petite," he said languidly as he walked slowly towards her, brandishing his staff lightly and blocking her only means of escape. The woman turned slowly to look at him, flashing mocking silver eyes, fear and arrogance intertwined in a smoldering gaze. She moved suddenly, drawing out a staff very similar to Gambit's own but still in a compacted state.
She leaned back in a low, karate-style pose and narrowed her eyes, staff held forward easily in her right hand. The moment she moved Gambit had withdrew three cards and now began to charge them, the sizzle of kinetic energy filling the air. The woman seemed to scoff at his movements, and then looked up to the star-splattered sky. Suddenly she leapt straight up into the air, her staff extending to its full length with the soft scraping sound of metal sliding upon metal and locking into place with a click. Gambit watched her, puzzled at what she intended to do and by the sheer fact of the height she'd leapt. The woman flipped in the air, bringing her staff to a horizontal setting with one hand. Too late, Gambit realized her intentions. The staff locked against the brick walls of the alley, forming a makeshift bar. Hanging by one hand, the woman spun a full 360° around the bar, then let go and twisted like a trapeze artist. She caught the staff once again, spinning once more until she was vertical over the bar. As gravity and momentum forced her to continue the spin, she brought her feet up suddenly and with an audible click, they impacted with the staff. Her momentum lost, and crouching silently on the makeshift bar, she glanced down at Gambit. She laughed at him tauntingly, a muffled sound that nevertheless enticed him to follow.
A moment later, she stood on the staff, balancing easily like a tightrope walker, the stars and moon framing her triumphant pose. Leaping once again, her foot kicked the staff up with a muted thwack as her body twisted in the cool night air. Her left hand shot out and grasped the staff around the center as she spun, flipping a final time to land firmly, if panting, on the roof adjacent to the alley. Gambit watched dejectedly as her dark silhouette fled across the flat roof and away from him, her laughter fading into the background. He removed the charge from the cards and slipped them back of his sleeve.
Discouraged but not about to let the woman escape, Gambit searched for his own route up to the roof. He leapt onto a nearby garbage bin, the ring of metal making him cringe. He flipped backwards, his feet making stunning contact with the opposite wall. He pushed off quickly from there, launching himself higher and into and other flip to repeat the maneuver on the opposite wall. Again, he pushed off, flipping away and then twisting in the air so that he faced the opposite wall. He tossed his staff up and onto the roof and with a hard smack he caught the lip of the roof. A ragged gasp escaped his lips from the suddenness of it but he quickly pulled himself up and over. Rolling over the edge and landing on his feet, his hands groping for the staff, he glanced up to see where the woman was. Instead, he caught a vicious kick in the jaw that sent him reeling to the floor. Fortunately, his hands closed around his staff and despite the pain, he rolled off his stomach to face her. He blocked a swing to his head easily, and then another to his side, despite the fact he was lying on his back. He slid his staff under hers and jabbed her forcefully in the solar plexus, sending her reeling back with an agonized groan. He flipped forward to his feet and swung his staff low, connecting solidly with her ankle and knocking her to the roof. She knew how to use a staff to move, he decided, but she wasn't well versed in how to fight with one. He stood fully and moved to set his staff against her throat, intent on keeping her pinned to the ground. She had other plans. Rolling to the left and coming to her feet in an instant, with her staff still in her hands, she turned about and ran.
Gambit followed eagerly, knowing the chase was near the end. She was halfway across the wide roof but beyond that was only a large, empty street – nowhere to go. Remy smirked slightly, knowing that no fancy footwork could get the woman off the roof without breaking a bone. At this point, he considered, for only a moment, letting the girl go, but decided against it. He needed to know what she was doing in a Guild safe house and besides, he couldn't let her get away with pulling that superior stunt in the alley. He gained on her quickly but she ran with fear thick in her blood. She faltered once, but caught herself as she scrambled away from him towards the end of the roof, her boots scraping audibly. Remy knew she was scared but doubted anything he might say would get her to stop. He was within arms reach of her now and made a grab for her but missed as she spun, twisting away from his hand and slamming her staff like a club into his side. Gambit reeled from the blow, losing his advantage but he dashed after her again. She reached the edge of the roof, skidding to a stop and glanced back at him hesitantly. Stepping up onto the rail-like edge, she met his eyes. A deep confidence under a thick overlay of fear glared at Remy from those silver eyes and he charged forward, determined to catch her before she did something stupid. He heard her breathe in deeply, sharply, as one might before plunging into cold water. A moment more and he'd be close enough to grab her. The fight was over, the woman was caught. Wasn't she?
Remy dropped his staff as he reached her, the metal bar rolling to a stop not far from him. He grabbed for her shoulders, not wanting to do anything that would toss her backwards. The woman suddenly thrust her staff forwards and let go of it, sacrificing the weapon into Remy's hands. Remy tossed it quickly to the side. It clattered on the rooftop, the jarring sound standing out amongst the subdued sounds of the city. Remy's head snapped back to the woman as he made a second attempt to catch her, when she made one last, desperate attempt.
Twisting backwards, the woman leapt off the roof.