I do not own X-Men: Evolution
A/N: I sort of just came up with this over the course of an hour. This is my first story dedicated primarily to ROMY. Let me know what you think.
Chapter 1: D'accord
Remy wasn't really certain were he was. He woke up in a chair, lying on a metal table, and with a splitting headache. He reached up with his right hand to rub his temple, but felt an uncomfortable jerk tug his wrist. His eyes shot down toward his hand seeing the handcuff immediately. Some one had caught him.
The throbbing in Remy's head was more blatant than when he had just woken up. He was more aware now, given his circumstances. His senses were firing off information to his head trying to figure out where exactly he was. His dark eyes darted around the room, noting it was dimly lit. The only light was a single bulb hanging from the ceiling over the table. It was an interrogation room.
The events that had lead up to him landing here were a blur to Remy. He slowly remembered. He had been in a high-security building on an independent job. Using his old contacts, Remy had learned of a small cache of diamonds that would be in Los Angeles for a brief period of time. It was a risky job, but the payout was bigger than any Remy ever had. He managed to trace the cache to a high-security building in the downtown area. He had only a week to acquire them before they would be moved again. The job became even more appealing when it turned out that the building was a Diamond Depository. The security was tight enough to a point that it could shame the secret service; the building had plenty of guards, motion detectors, laser grids, thermal sensors, cameras, and retinal and fingerprint scanners. Most thieves would look at this job and turn it down upon hearing the word "Diamonds", but Remy wasn't most thieves.
He had planned the job down to the second. Enter through the loading bay, take the service passages to below the vault, cut the power to the back up generator then cut the power itself, enter the vault from below, empty as many of the deposit boxes as he could in five minutes, and exit the way he came. It was the route with the least security and quickest in and out. Everything had gone to plan until he was on his way out. When he was going back through the door linking the service passages to the loading bay, he heard a clicking noise as he opened the door, followed by the sound of a gas valve releasing. A caustic fume vented into the doorway and Remy had breathed it in before he knew what was happening. The next thing he remembered was waking up lying on a cold, metallic table with his hand cuffed on one side of it.
Remy heard the sound of a page turning behind him, causing him to jerk his head around. There was someone veiled by the shadows of the room looking through a thick file. As Remy's eyes adjusted to the darkness, he began to make out the man's features. He was middle-aged, had a full head of crew cut hair which was grey. He noticed Gambit was staring at him exchanged a stare of his own. Remy got a good look at his face, noticing immediately that the man's left eye was covered by a patch. Remy knew immediately who it was.
"Monsieur Fury," Remy uttered the man's name. Nick Fury did not acknowledge Remy's greeting with a response. He only continued to flip through the thick file in his hands.
"167 counts of theft, 145 counts of breaking and entering, 263 counts of vandalism. The subject's skill as a master thief suggests that these counts are inaccurate; it is likely that the subject has countless other similar charges, and others, that will go undiscovered," Fury read aloud, "Subject is very skilled in hand-to-hand combat, combat involving a staff, is very agile and persuasive. For full description and explanation of powers see Form X-7. Approach with caution. "
Remy was silent as his rap sheet was read aloud. He was shocked that their numbers were that low. They had no real idea how good he was.
"Well that sure is hell of a rap sheet for someone who isn't even twenty," Fury mused, "I took the liberty of adding your most recent heist to the career record. Don't think the guild is going to be too happy you botched their one opportunity to get all these diamonds in a fell swoop. Sure, you can tell them you tried, but you still take one up the ass anyway you cut it. Game's up, son. I caught you and now I'm stuck trying to figure out what I should do with you."
"Gambit ain't part of da guild no mo'," Remy clarified. He met Fury's gaze, watching the authority carefully. He was not scared of the Shield agent, or the threats that remained cloaked in that speech. Fury lit a cigarette for himself and placed one on the table in front of Remy.
Damn, he's smart, he thought to himself. Fury was not stupid enough to hand something to Remy. He already lost an eye, and he wasn't about to let himself lose a hand.
Remy took the cig in his mouth, "D' ya have a light, homme?"
Fury grinned, flicking his zippo lighter open and barely touching its flame to Remy's cig. He was taking every precaution necessary to prevent his prisoner from acting out. He sat down across from Remy, dropping the folder to the table with a thud.
"All that right there is all I need to put you away for life," Fury warned, "I'll tell you one thing, I could get it so you have to serve the time with all of these consecutively. You'd be dead before you see any chance of parole."
"What do ya want avec moi (with me)? Une confession?" Remy asked.
"Cut through the bullshit, Mr. Lebeau," Fury growled, "I don't need a confession to toss your ass in the slammer. That little stunt you did earlier tonight is enough to put you away for a good stint upstate. That French accent of yours would make you a nice bitch for some hairy-assed bad boy in the joint."
Remy was getting frustrated with Fury's jabs at his heritage. He was not short of reaching across the table and charging the man's shirt, but murder was one charge he did not need right now.
"Den tell moi whah Remy's here. Ye'd jus' have thrown moi in a cell if ya didn' need a confession," Remy said. This wasn't the first time Remy was in an interrogation room. Fury took a long drag from his cig and blew a large cloud of smoke.
"There's only one reason why I haven't handed your ass over to some three letter agency, Mr. Lebeau," Fury began, he leaned forward to emphasize his words, "A man in my position is expected to do a lot. I'm supposed to protect the American people in a way designated by the brass. I do my job by the book, and the brass still gets on my ass about not getting results.
Remy sighed at the man's inevitable monologue. Fury did not bother with the thief's response.
"In order to get desired results, sometimes I have to bend the rules, even break them. I'm the type of guy not afraid of getting his hands dirty to get the job done. The higher-ups get their results, and they don't hear about my methods.
"You're a talented individual who just happened to get his hand stuck in the cookie jar," Fury droned on, but Remy still listened, "I don't see the point in letting those talents rot in a dark cell in the middle of some desert, nor do I see the point in wasting precious tax payer's dollars on keeping you alive in that cell. I can use people like you to get things done."
"So, ya wan' Gambit to become a Shield agent," Remy laughed at the proposal. Fury was not in a joking mood, prompting Remy to cease his laughter fast.
"You have any idea how bad that would look? Besides, there'd be too much red tape to deal with," Fury corrected, "I'm going to give you a one-time offer, Mr. Lebeau. It's off the table once I leave this room. I don't want you to become an agent, but I do want to make some use out of you.
The way Fury said that last sentence did not sit well with Remy. He was being black-mailed.
"A person with your skills is more useful as an unofficial asset. There are some things I need done that S.H.I.E.L.D. can't be associated with," Fury explained, "I can't be too specific with you right now, but all you need to know is that I'm handing you a get-out-of-jail-free card?"
Remy nodded, still taking drags from his cig, "Ya bluffin', homme. Nothin's free in dis world. What's ya price?"
"I'm going to call in favors from you every now and then," Fury began, "In exchange for doing these favors you get to stay out of prison. If you're a good boy long enough, this thick folder disappears for good, you'll be free, and you won't have to do any more favors."
"How many favors are ya talkin'?" Remy asked. He did not like the sound of this part of the deal.
"As many as I feel necessary," Fury said coolly.
"What? How is dis fair, huh?" Remy pouted.
"I'm a fair man, Mr. Lebeau. I don't plan on holding this over your head forever, nor do I want to. But you need to think; this is your only ticket out of life in prison. If you don't take this offer, I'll find someone who will," Fury threatened with his tone still brisk, "You do these favors, you get your life back."
Remy let his head drop. He was in deep now. Remy knew he did not have too many options right then, prison being the least appealing. Even so, he loathed the thought of being some man's puppet for however long he saw fit. He sighed deeply, defeated.
"Fahne, Monsieur Fury. We have un accord," Remy submitted, "What do ya wan' from Gambit?"
"Nothing yet, you'll hear from me when I have something," Fury said. Remy felt relieved, but only a little.
"So Gambit can leave?" Remy asked putting his cig out on the metal table.
"Yeah, but you're going somewhere I can find you easily. You're going to stay with someone who will keep an eye on you," Remy felt a sinking feeling at those words, he did not like where this was going, "I contacted Charles Xavier. You're going to be staying at his school, under his custody. That's part of the agreement, comprendre (understood)?"
"Oui," Remy replied coldly.
"Good. He'll be here in an hour to collect you," Fury said, he uncuffed Remy form the table before adding, "You try to run before our deal is up, and I'll send you packing once I get my hands on you. And trust me, I will find you."
"D'accord," Remy replied rubbing his wrist tenderly. They always snapped the cuffs on tighter than necessary. He left the interrogation room with Fury and collected his belongings. Fury led him out of the building they were in to a limo parked down the street. Remy reflected on the last couple minutes. It was not an ideal situation, but it could be worse. Perhaps living at the institute would not be so bad. Remy would be able to see his Chère more often. That would make his situation a little more bearable. The thought of Rogue managed to rustle a smile out of Remy.
Fury grabbed Remy's arm before he let him get into the limo and handed him a cell phone.
"I'll contact you on this phone, service is on the government's tab," Fury explained. Remy pocketed the phone immediately, "See? You get some benefits."
"Merci," Remy said unenthusiastically. Fury was gone after that, leaving Remy alone in the street with a limo. He opened the door and climbed inside to come across a familiar face.
"Hello, Remy," greeted Professor Charles Xavier.
A/N: Hope you liked it. I heard in the comics Fury plays dirty when he needs to. So, Remy's gone and got himself in trouble again. How are the rest of the X-Men going to respond to Remy's arrival? How will Rogue in particular react?