roses are red, violets are blue, me no own , so you no sue
cause i just think WATXM gambit need to be taken down a couple notches, and this story has been in my head for Weeks, chattering at me.
sorry if i offend anyone, but if you don't like it, don't read it.
Logan smirked. " Shut yer mouth, gumbo, yer droolin"
Normally, he would have been extremely pissed right now. Having to put up with the smirking Cajun terrorist-for-hire who had already almost killed him once, that goddamn cocky, arrogant Gambit always set his teeth on edge. Chuck had wanted him, and despite Logan's loud protests, the man was hired (for an exorbitant fee, of course). Had Logan had a choice in the matter, he would've shish-ka- bobbed the man the minute he walked in their door, but, unfortunately, once again the universe had refused to listen to his pleas. He had been forced to grit his teeth, swallow his pride and give Gambit a tour of the mansion, a torture made even worse by the irritating smell he gave off, the swirling of the hem of his trench coat and his constant smart-aleck remarks. Once they had reached the last sight on the tour, the danger room, however, his mood had taken a dramatic turn for the better. Why?
That could be summed up in one word: Rogue.
Logan smiled with fatherly pride as he watched the lithe woman effortlessly take down a 20- foot-tall metal spider from up on the observation deck. She executed the series of moves he had taught her flawlessly, striking the joints with blasts of ice using the power she had stolen from bobby. A couple of well placed strikes, and the legs shattered, spraying chunks of frozen metal across the metallic room.
"Gambit does not . . .oh. T'anks" gambit said distractedly, whipping a small string of drool off his chin. He watched with rapt attention as more enemies piled into the room, several heavily armed thugs, and rogue took down the first 2 within three seconds before making short work of the rest. Every move she made was predetermined, purposeful
And breathtaking to watch. As the last part of the simulation, several drones with spinning razor-bladed edges shot into the room, flying around at erratic, unpredictable angles. She shot one down with a blast of energy, barely dodged two more but managed to eradicate them by sending them crashing into each other, and back flipped over the last one before sending it spinning into the wall with a well- place kick. The way she bent, and stretched, and the spandex – Mon dieu. He had never thought of a fabric so fondly before in his life.
The simulation came to an end with a soft beep, and rogue came to a halt, twisting to work the kinks out of her back. She looked up at the control room, grinning, and called out " how was that, Logan?"
"Fantastic" Gambit thought, just as Logan called down " terrific, stripes! 2 minutes, 28 seconds". The loup-garou had a proud smile on his face, which Gambit briefly wondered at. " Great" rogue called back. "Ah'm gonna go get something to eat. Want meh tah make y' anything', wolvie? There's half a turkey in the fridge, ah kept the rug- rats off it fo' yah" "any beer?" Logan called in a pained tone, and rogue smirked " ah'll see what ah can do." she turned and started to walk away, and Gambit stifled a groan. She was southern, too?
" Oh, an Logan?" as an afterthought, rogue turned back to face the big, hairy Canadian.
"Yeah, stripes?" Logan called down.
"Tell the swamp rat t' keep the only good-looking part's a his face offa ma ass, or ah will pluck them outta their sockets, string them up like fuzzy dice and hang them on the mirror of ma car, caprice?" he smirked at gambit's shell-shocked expression.
"i'll make sure he gets the message"
" oh yeah" gambit thought, watching her walk away. " she gonna be mine, l'right"
