Author's Notes: Greetings! My Rogue and Gambit relationship obsessed friend challenged me, as I am the Personification of Fluff, to try and write a Rogue and Gambit fic, which, I've never actually written before. This is the result. While it's not sappy and romantic just yet, this IS only chapter one! ^_^
Keep an eye peeled for other relationships, too! Because I can never keep a story just that simple. . . .
Rating: No more than pg-13.
Scenario: It's an AU fic! Anything goes! I know, X-Men itself is rather AU, but then, I like fantasy stories. The X-Men are... da da da.... pirates! I don't have a plot beyond that, so read on and I'll hopefully get one by the next chapter! ^_^
Disclaimer: I don't own X-Men. That is, I own X-Men comics and the movie, but that's about it. I don't own THE comics. Given the opportunity, however, I will gladly own Kurt or Piotr. No, I'm not making money off of this, I'm doing it because the PoF happens to have a pride streak the size of Toronto to somebody who considers a town of ten thousand crowded. I have heard a call, and I will answer it!
Chapter One
"Get back here!" The cry faded slowly into the background of the city, drowned out by the occasional sounds of gunshot or scream. The city was a dangerous place, but it was all the more deadly after the sun had sunk below the horizon. Giddy and serious all at the same time, the second in command of a famous pirate ship, famous himself, Remy LeBeau, the master of all things pirates loved, grinned.
The boat rocked steadily from side to side, the sight of its movement hidden in the dead of night. Though the city streets were unnerving to most, the handful of people running from roof top to roof top found it an asset in their business. What was their business? The only job that was worth doing, as far as they were concerned: thieving!
"A bottle of rum to fill my tum, and that's the life for me!" he sang as he pushed himself over another rooftop using his metal staff. It was like flying! The Cajun man laughed, the hearty laugh befitting of a pirate. As if possessing super human powers -which he did- he vaulted from the top of the harbour master's house, straight into the crow's nest of the ship he called home. Holding the bag of bounty for his men -and woman- to see, he cried, "Gambit gonna party tonight, mes ami!"
Below him, his fellow pirates cheered and applauded. He swung down single handedly on one of the lines, and began to bark out orders in all directions. "Kurt, 'drow off de ropes! We be setting sail! Kitten, 'drow dese jewels in the vault wit' de others. Wolverine, take de wheel. I'm going da see de boss. And grab us some nice wine."
Kurt Wagner teleported off the ship and let loose the ropes that bound the ship to the unsuspecting port. He bamfed from pole to pole, and then unto the ship when all was done. Lacing his three fingered hands behind his head, he whistled happily, black eyepatch making his one eyed yellow glow all the more eerie. "Ve did well then, Gambit? That house vas more than a little difficult."
"Mon ami, de rewards were well worth the effort," the second him command smiled down at him. He stood taller than all of his men. "De only 'ting that could have made this port better were some more of de women-folk, and mebbe anoder hand to help us out."
"What?" Katherine Pryde demanded, phasing through the floor, the bag of jewels empty in her hand. She smiled, tossing her braid over her wiry shoulder, her chin held high. "Aren't Mystique and I women enough for you?"
Gambit and Kurt snickered. "Mystique's more than enough woman for anybody, Katzchen."
Leaving Kurt to explain to the fifteen year old girl the joy of having a woman who could explain to anybody she wanted to, Gambit headed to the Captain's office. As usual, he sauntered in without knocking, staff tied to his back and arms crossed over his muscular chest, he deposited himself in an unused chair, sitting as casually as a man who could own half the world and not care an ounce for any of it. He rubbed his badly shaven beard. "You were right, mon capetaine. Dere were plenty o' gold, and plenty o' gems da boot. But, Gambit was wondering if you couldn't have picked a site wid' a razor. Gambit finds shaving on a boat hard, non?"
The Captain of the famous pirate ship, the Raven, took a sip of the French wine Gambit had been so eager to get his hands on. "Come now Gambit. That looks good on you. It makes you look like a lady killer. Of course, even without your... pirate like... appearance, you'd still appear like you know how to show a girl a good time. What's the matter, Cajun? Didn't you get enough bounty? Or was it booty you didn't get enough of? If you wanted, we could leave you at the next stop. I'm sure you could find a woman to take you in, although I have no pity for her or you when you crush her heart and leave her house without so much as a penny."
Mystique, Captain of the pirate ship named after one of her old personalities, smiled, her pointed teeth a perfect shade of white against her blue skin. In the dead of night, with only a single candle lit, she was nearly invisible. Gambit always found it hard to believe that the seductive woman who wore as little as possible was older than he. She always found it to believe she had hired such a womanizing, headstrong, and greedy man to be her second in command.
He snorted, lighting up a cigarette. He stuck the lighter and the box in one of his leather coat pockets. "What? And leave all mes amis without me t' protect them from your cruel ways? Non. Not in my lifetime, Mystique. Dey are my men before dey are yours. 'Tis ship might be named after you, you megalomaniac, but 'dese be Gambit's men. And jeunnesse."
She purred, reaching out a slender arm to light her own cigarette. Mystique breathed in, her chest rising suggestively. "Are you talking mutiny, Gambit?" Mystique paused, her pink tongue licking lightly at her supple lips. "Is it just me, or as your English been improving?"
"I've been taking lessons," he said with a smirk. "You wanted people wit' special powers, Mystique. You got 'em. 'Course, de big boss never cared t'see what oter powers dese persons have." His smile grew, his broad lips almost reaching black and red eyes that hinted of unused abilities. "Don't 'tink dis means Gambit's going ta become a scholar. De ladies love da speech too much. Gambit was just in need a new word t'insult you wit'."
"Megalomaniac, am I? Well, I never denied being full of pride or having an ego to rival yours, but I certainly don't admit it, either."
"Nobody has an ego like Gambit's."
"Here," she handed him the key to her liquor cabinet. Mystique leaned back in her chair, her face what looked like prideful, but it was too dark to tell. "Take your pick. Wolverine alone brought in enough to repay the cost of anything you and your pirates might drink. And you know how conspicuous he is."
Gambit selected a bottle of scotch for Wolverine, and two bottle of wine: one for him, and one for Kurt. "It's sad that Kurt won't drink anyting oter dan wine, non? I 'tink ta German would enjoy ta vodka or ta rum. . . ."
The men let out another cheer as Gambit reemerged from the large quarters they were never allowed to enter, triumphantly holding up the wine and scotch as he had the bag of gold and jewels. Quiet as the cats she had been named for, Katherine appeared beside him and pouted. "Only three bottles? How come I never get to drink with you guys?"
"Because you're too young," Logan growled. He acknowledged Gambit with a snort as he took the scotch and ripped it open with his bare teeth. He spat the cork into the sea and began to drink before he bothered to remove the thick Cuban from between his lips. "And because somebody has to keep an eye out for land. You know the routine, Kit."
With Kitty in the crow's nest keeping an eye out for land they might crash into, the three men drank and drank. They drank until the three of them were so wasted they were hanging off one another and singing songs: Kurt in his German, Gambit's thick Cajun, and Wolverine was being... well, Wolverine. While Mystique had only provided them with three bottles, she knew nothing about the six bottles Gambit had "liberated" from the wine cellar of their previous victim.
"You know," Gambit hiccupped. He took a swig of tequila. Being a pirate, it was considered 'improper' to use lemon or salt while drinking tequila. He was too drunk to notice that his throat was burning from the alcohol. "Dis was 'ta weirdest heist Gambit was on. Gambit's in 'ta house, and Gambit's gets all fuzzy. Savez vous?"
"Of course, liebchen!" Kurt went slap his friend heartily on the back and missed. He swung around from a lever by his devilish tail. Only someone who had once worked in a circus could have mastered drinking upside down. "I'm da fuzzy blue elf! Mein head is naturally fuzzy!"
Gambit shook his head, his ruffled brown hair falling into his red eyes. "Dat's not it, Kurt. It be someting else."
From up in the rooftop, they hurt Kitty call the hour. "Two twenty-six am, and all is well!"
Wolverine hollered back, "You know, short stuff, you're supposed to do that every hour!"
"I fell asleep! Give me a brake!"
Gambit carefully rose. He tried to toss the empty tequila bottle overboard -and missed. "Merdre. How can Gambit miss a shot like de ocean?" He clutched his already throbbing head, and shook it, attempting to clear it of the alcohol. "Gambit need t'get up early tomorrow morning t'count our gold. It's been fun, gentlemen. Bonne nuit!"
All but sliding from one side of the ship to the other, Gambit staggered to the door, and went down a deck to the sleeping quarters. It was in time of his drunkenness that he wished he could phase like Kitty. Maybe that way he wouldn't wake up from bruises on his shoulders from banging into things. He swore again in French when the ground slipped from under him and he rolled uncontrollably down the stairs.
Laying there, he paused, waiting for the pain to hit him. Was anything broken? Even if he had broken a bone or two, he probably wouldn't be able to feel it until the morning. Until late in the morning. Being unable to walk was bad enough, but being unable to walk properly while being on a ship that was bouncing like a spanking new toddler was even worse.
Passing by John, he pointed up stairs. "There's some alcohol, if you hurry up." Was that really his voice that sounded so scratchy? "Don't go haywire, Pyro. Ta last thing Gambit be needing is ta wake up and find ta sails are gone like Gambit did two months ago."
"Yeah," the Auzzie grumbled. "That's why I was put on the night crew. I take it there was another good haul last night, eh mate?"
"Better dan dat. Jealous, fire-boy?" His cigarette -the fourth one since he had returned from the mission- flared dangerously. He laughed at John. "Gambit be taking dat as a yes."
"What good is the ability to burn stuff down when you want to steal stuff?" he demanded. "I swear you guys are keeping me here just so that I can keep the ship from burning down in the middle of the Atlantic."
"Meebe."
John went back the way Gambit had just come, and the Cajun proceeded to his bedroom. Using his cigarette, he lit a single candle. Fire was usually a bad idea on a ship. It was enough light for him to find his chair and throw off all his clothes. His staff he protectively placed in his closet. His box of smoked he put into his night stand's drawer, barely indistinguishable from the packages of playing cards. After that, he first tossed his leather jacket on the chair, followed by his vest Katherine mockingly called "fuschia". Kicking off his boots, he didn't bother bending over and putting them in their spot. That was too much effort. What was wrong with the floor anyway? The boots didn't care of it was cold and hard!
Like any good pirate, he wore black leather boots that seemed to seamlessly with his black pants. They too, went soaring on to the back of the chair. Running a hand threw of hair, he caught sight of himself in the cracked mirror. Glass never lasted long on a ship, but he was too vain to go without one. Mystique had been right. Even if he could shave all the way while the sea tossed the ship about, he'd still attract the ladies like bees to honey.
"Gambit has got t'admit it. He be one good looking man."
Falling into bed, he landed on his back, and didn't even bother pulling the covers over his naked body. It was a beautiful summer night outside, and the cabin got very stuffy. Barely holding unto the realm of the awake, he reached over and opened the porthole. That would get some breeze blowing in.
He fell asleep without even realizing that there was a human shaped body buried under the covers beside him. . . .
****
"Merdre," Gambit yawned. "Gambit got to remember not t'drink so much." He clutched his head, as if that would help to ease over some of the pain from his hangover. He rubbed his eyes before opening them, grumbling any swear word he knew when the sun practically blinded him. He angrily slammed the porthole closed and released the drape he had nailed -with seven nails in each corner and in the middle- to the wall. It was yet another thing in the room he had stolen. Everything in his bedroom was stolen!
He yawned and tried to go back to bed, but froze when he heard a sigh. That definitely hadn't been him. In fact, it had sounded like a female voice. Fearing that in his escapade with the alcohol he'd done something to Kitty that Wolverine would keelhaul him for before making his body a walking pincushion, he threw the covers aside and a whole new seat of fears replaced his old ones.
There was a girl in his bed!
"Mon dieu!" Gambit breathed. It wasn't a girl in his bed, it was an angel! Gambit actually crossed himself.
The girl had wavy auburn hair, her slumbering face framed by a white streak on either side. Her lashes fluttered on her cheeks as she slowly returned from dreamland. Gambit quickly grabbed anything he could to cover himself up, suddenly feeling rather nervous that she'd caught him naked in his own bedrooms. She yawned, stretching as if the thin mattress had been the bed fitting for a queen. Her eyes open, he found that they were a shade of green prettier than any emerald he'd ever seen.
"Why ya'll coverin' yerself up?" she demanded. The girl had a thick Southern accent Gambit found rather comforting. He'd missed the south. She sat up and bed, and gambit corrected his earlier thoughts. Clearly, this was a woman. Her shirt had a high collar, and where it ended she wore black gloves. Her pants were well worn, and nothing spectacular, but on her Gambit thought they were amazing. Grabbing her boots from under the bed, she shoved them under her feet: leather boots not too different from his. "Ah already saw ya'll last night."
For whatever reason, that thought made Gambit move. He dove for the night stand and drew out the first deck of cards he saw: unfortunately, they were his box of cigarettes. Confused only for a second, he mentally shrugged off his mistake and help up a cigarette threateningly. "Gambit tinks you be a stowaway. De Boss, she don't take quietly to stowaways."
"Ah ain't no stowaway, yah swamp rat!" The girl stopped up and put her hands on her hip. "And what d'ya think ya' doin'? Ya gonna attack a helpless woman with a cigarette? Yer stupider than Ah though ya were! It's kinda hard to become a pirate when ya don't hold auditions. Ah came on board the only way Ah knew how."
"Felicitations," he sarcastically said. "Meebe Gambit might care if he knew why you be in his bed -not dat he be complaining- and why you wanna be a pirate wit' us. Or who you are, mademoiselle."
"Mah name's Rogue," she answered. "Ah hear ya guys are the best of the best. Wanted in all seven seas, they say. Even better, ya use nothin' but what ya got: smarts... and powers. Well, yah might not use yer smarts seein' as how ya don't got any. Ah figured that ya guys might be needin' a hand or two. So before the ship set sail, Ah hoped on board and figured Ah'd wait till mornin' to introduce myself."
Gambit smiled despite himself. "Oh, wonderful plan, Rogue. Wait until we be in da middle of t'ocean to come out a' hiding. What did you want us to do? Drow you overboard?"
"Ah'd like ta see you try, samp rat! Ah'd kick yer ass before ya even got close! And throwin' me overboard ain't gonna do much." To demonstrate, Rogue, without warning, began to hover, her green eyes gloating. "See?"
Gambit frowned. "I 'tink I liked you better asleep, Rogue. You weren't so annoying den. Dis ain't Gambit's area a' expertise. If you be looking for a job, you'd better be seeing de boss."
Leaning against his night stand, he smirked. Gambit even more pirate-like that way. For the first time, the girl he was trying to impress did nothing. His grin grew slightly the angel he'd found in his bed was going to be a challenge. "Dat's an impressive skill, but Gambit don't go bothering the boss for no reason. A flying stowaway isn't someting Gambit would go to de boss for. You got any oter gifts?"
She pursed her lips. "Yeah. Ah got ahnother power. But, like yer boss, Ah don't let just anybody see it. Mainly 'cause Ah don't like using it. Unless ya got a death wish, Ah don't suggest askin' fer a demonstration."
He arched an eyebrow, looking even smugger from the action. "Oh, but Gambit is, Petite, Gambit is. What's da matter? Doesn't de soudern belle have control over her powers? Poor little baby! Quelle domage! We can't take on buccaneers who can't control deir powers."
"Ah can't control this one," Rogue huffed. The way her chest moved made Gambit think of naughty thoughts. "Ah don't use my other powers 'cause they hurt people. As long as people don't get close ta me, everybody's just fine. Besides, ain't the ability ta fly good enough? D'ya know how handy that'll be, bein' a pirate? Just take me to the boss! Let them make the decision!"
"Petite, you still haven't answered all of Gambit's questions." He wagged a finger at her.
"Do ya always refer ta yerself in the third person? Great! The stories about the famous 'Gambit' neva' said ya had bad gramma'! Ah got tired, ya happy now? This was the first room with a bed ah found. And the only one Ah found that looked like a real room."
He didn't think he'd ever be able to get anything else out of her. Gambit relented and took Rogue up to the boss' quarters. Everybody was already awake, as the life of a pirate was never over. They received several inquisitive expressions, but nobody approached them.
The last stowaway they had, had met an untimely end: she'd become the ship treasurer and they'd been ordered to treat her as cruelly as possible. Mystique had wanted to make sure she would measure up. Chances are, since it was a female, she would be given the same chance.
Kurt teleported down the nest, where he had been talking to Pyro. "That vas some voman, Gambit! Vere ever did you find her?"
"In my bed."
"Vell, vhy aren't you in there with them?"
For the first time since he had been working on the Raven, Gambit had been turned out of Mystique's office. He only wished he knew the answer to Kurt's question. Why wasn't he in there, dammit? He turned to Katherine for help, who was busy swabbing the decks, as she did every morning when it wasn't raining. A clean ship was an effective ship.
"Do you tink you could sneak in dere and tell Gambit what's going on, Petite? Gambit really want ta know."
She sadly shook her head no. "I can pass through walls, Gambit. I can't turn invisible! She'd see me, as clearly as you can now."
Leaving them with the orders to contact him as soon as Mystique was done with Rogue, Gambit went to the galley and began to prepare lunch. Breakfast had already long passed. The problem with working with a small crew was that everybody had to pull double (or triple) shifts. Try as he might, his head was invaded by thoughts of the mysterious girl he had found in his bedroom. Who was she, really? Why did she want to join the Raven? Everybody had their reasons. . . .
After what seemed like ages, Kitty phased through the ceiling. She was a bundle of energy. "Gambit! Guess what? Mystique just said that Rogue could stay! I'm gonna have a roommate!"
Gambit was about to say something, but he was cut off by the alarm bell. In the background, they could barely hear Pyro shouting: "To your battle stations! It's the Cerebro!"
He groaned. 'Captain Baldy, entering at the most inopportune time, as usual,' he thought.
Using Katherine's rather handy powers, they floated to the stage of their new battle, everyone but Rogue and Mystique were in a blur of movement. Gambit clamped a hand on Rogue's shoulder, not missing to notice how she flinched at the contact. "Looks as do Gambit will introduce you to de oters at a later date. Now it be time for war. You picked a good day to die, Cherie."