Gambling Chapter II: High Roller
Once back inside of the main cabin of the ship, Rogue clutched tightly to Scott's wrist. Her satin gloves ran up to her elbow, so he wasn't concerned about having his life force sapped out. Internally, Scott groaned as he could just visualize his wallet growing thinner.
Their first stop was to exchange their greenbacks for some poker chips. Scott looked over his shoulder towards the area where the auburn haired man lurked; a closer inspection showed that he was shuffling a deck of cards back and forth between his hands. For some suspicious reason Scott felt that if he had stayed a little longer in that man's presence that he would have had his wallet lifted. He knew that coming to a gambling vessel was sure to guarantee the loss of funds, but that didn't mean he wanted to be robbed—literally.
"Is something wrong, sugar?" Rogue asked when she noticed Scott casting wary glances in the Cajun's direction.
Scott gave her a shaky grin and shook his head. "It's still hard for me to convert one hundred dollars into this little chip only to toss it around as if it were nothing but a dime into a wishing well." He thought it wise to leave unsaid the reservations he had about her wearing such a revealing dress in the presence of such men as the smooth talker outside. She wouldn't have listened to him anyway.
Rogue laughed, green eyes twinkling at Scott's reticent nature. She patted his shoulder and then exchanged some of her own money for the colored chips. "Hopefully we'll be able to turn those little colored chips into a profit, so let's think positive. Besides, it's not like it's your money. Most of that's from the institute's petty cash, isn't it?"
"Not the point." Scott rolled his eyes, but because thanks to his ruby visors appeared completely composed and un-annoyed. "Let's try the Roulette table," he smirked before continuing. "I've always been partial to betting on red."
Rogue agreed and soon a crowd had formed around the lucky man and woman who kept converting hundreds of dollars into thousands at the tables. Rogue clapped her hands in excitement when she predicted the little gold ball would fall upon red seventeen successfully. She hit Scott in the upper arm, causing him to grimace slightly at her strong punch.
"This is great, Scott! And you thought this would be some sort of mistake," she scolded with a playful expression as she began to make bigger bets using the higher valued poker chips Cyclops had won.
"Just, don't get carried away," Scott warned as he stopped Rogue from accepting a glass of wine from the passing waiter. "That is how these places make their money. They let you get over confident with victory and then when you start to place ridiculous bets with your over-inflated ego you lose it all." When Rogue tried to accept the alcohol off another waiter, Scott caught her wrist. "You're too young for that, Marie," he warned in a quiet hiss that only she could hear.
"Don't be such a sour-puss," Rogue groaned as she was once again denied a drink. Then she smiled beautifully at the man in charge of the Roulette table. "I'd like to bet two grand on black fifty-two." The man accepted her poker chips and set the wheel turning as he let Rogue toss the gold ball with a healthy spin to it.
Rogue was leaning over the table in anticipation when the ball landed on red nineteen. She frowned as she watched the attendant claim her chips. "Look, Rogue, why don't we quit for the evening, we're still ahead." Scott suggested.
"Nah, why don't you go on back to the suite? I think I'll try my luck at a few rounds of Black Jack." Rogue handed Scott back the leather bag containing his gambling money, leaving her with only her own. "It might be more wise if you kept this out of my sight." She winked. "Wouldn't want my gambling problem to send us both to the poor house!"
"Just, don't bet it all, all right? And don't stay out too late either," Scott warned, knowing there was nothing he could do to convince the fiery brunette with all that excitement flashing in her emerald eyes. She nodded and gave him a gentle push towards the exit.
A path seemed to clear before her as she made her way to the Black Jack table. The dealer was an attractive woman with long blond hair, so Rogue already knew that she couldn't charm her way playing the Southern Belle routine on this game. She decided to try her luck anyway.
"Hi, Sugar, I'd like to bet two black chips," Rogue greeted as she slid over chips equal to two hundred dollars. The dealer accepted them and passed out two cards to her and then dealt herself a pair. Rogue looked at her cards and smirked victoriously when she found they already equaled twenty-one. "I think I'll stay."
The attendant flipped over her face-down cards to show she was at twenty-two. "Dealer busts, customer wins." She looked at Rogue expectantly.
"Yeah, I'll play again," Rogue agreed. This time she bet her two original black chips along with half the ones she won. She had decided before hand that she would only risk her original two hundred. A waiter walked by the table and offered Rogue some of the complementary wine. Enthusiastically she accepted now that her designated dad was gone and she made sure to enjoy the bubbly feeling the expensive wine caused to dance along her tongue and throat.
She beat the dealer again and the wine kept coming. Rogue waved off the waiter when she started to feel a little light headed. She didn't have much tolerance for the stuff, but thanks to absorbing some of Wolverine her metabolism had increased. Her vision wasn't quite as clear as before and she started to feel a bit crowded by the people that had gathered around her to watch her victorious bout at Black Jack. She had already won two Burgundy chips while at the game, equal to a grand each.
"Chere, maybe you should quit while you be ahead, no?" The slick, familiar voice of the Cajun sounded in her ear, right before a pair of arms circled around her waist from behind. Rogue felt her back being pressed against the muscular chest of the man from earlier.
"I think it would be wise if you let go of me, for your own health of course," Rogue purred as sweetly as possible, though the slight slurred quality to her words affected how serious one could take her. No matter how drunk she was, she could not forget that her skin was exposed at her neck and represented a deadly invitation for any whom wished to accept.
"Hmm, this Cajun thinks this belle be needing a hero for when the house turns the tables around and she lose all those pretty chips she be winning," Gambit answered as he pushed a burgundy chip to bet in the game out of Rogue's treasury.
"Swamp rat, I didn't give you permission to use my chips," Rogue scolded as she tried to kick behind her in a place the Cajun would surely remember, but the tight dress impeded such movements.
"Careful, you don't want to rip that dress. Trust this Cajun," Gambit whispered seductively in her ear, careful to avoid contact with her skin. He had observed her closely through the night and noticed that not once did her skin touch that of another. He had heard rumors about some mutants up in New York. After her mutant comment outside he started to think about those rumors. One of the mutants could blast holes into the side of a mountain with lasers from his eyes and that only special eyewear could control his powers. There was another whose skin was poisonous to the touch. Her skin could suck the very life right out of you.
What were the odds that he was on the same riverboat with those particular mutants?
Pretty good odds knowing Remy LeBeau's luck.
"Why should I trust you?" Rogue asked as she watched the cards be dealt before her. The two before her equaled seventeen. It was tricky to get exactly twenty-one with such a hand, and very easy to bust.
"Because chere, I think that you should stay on this hand," Gambit advised. He allowed his hypnotic gaze to catch the dark brown eyes of the dealer. "I imagine that the dealer is going to draw another card and bust." As though he predicted the future, that is exactly what transpired.
"How did you know that?" Rogue tried to turn and face her new coach, but found that his arms had tightened around her, preventing such a move.
"This Cajun is a bit of a gambler, but he also knows when to pull out before things they get too rough." Gambit collected the chips that Rogue had won in the last round. "I think the lady and I will be pulling up our stakes." He glanced around at the other patrons surrounding them. "Allow some of these other fine gentlemen and ladies to try their turn at this Black Jack table."
Remy stepped back, pulling Rogue with him as the people began to crowd the table to place their bets. Rather reluctantly, he released Rogue when he was certain she wasn't too drunk to stand on her own. He immediately missed the warmth that her body had provided, but ignored such sentimentality. Never had a woman caused him to put her wellbeing before his own. And if his guess was correct, he certainly didn't want to have such feelings for a woman whose skin could drain him of his very soul.
And yet, he found himself risking exposure and almost blowing his cover by helping her from losing all her winnings at Black Jack once the waiter succeeded in getting her inebriated.
"Thank you, I guess," Rogue said as she took back her bag of winnings and stared up at the tall man standing before her. She was pretty tall herself, but this Cajun had to have been at least six foot two. She chuckled to herself when she pictured Gambit and Logan getting into a duel. It would certainly make for an entertaining show.
"Remy couldn't very well sit back and watch a beautiful woman, such as yourself, be taken advantage of," he answered smoothly as he snatched up her hand in a fluid movement and held it to his lips to kiss the gloved hand, much like he had done a few hours prior.
"Right," Rogue agreed, sounding annoyed as she pulled her hand free. She glanced around searching for Scott, before remembering he had retired nearly two hours ago. A hand fell upon her shoulder and she found herself looking directly at those red on black eyes when the man slipped his glasses down his nose to look at her.
"Let's step outside, we need to talk," Gambit spoke firmly, and the look in his eyes left no room for argument.
"Um, very well, but I need to get back soon." Rogue allowed the man to lead her outside and away from the genetically neutral humans. The night had become chilled and she started to shiver, but a warmth soon replaced the coldness when a heavy coat was draped over her shoulders.
She glanced at the man standing beside her in his dress shirt, minus one long trench coat. Gambit shrugged. "It looks better on you then me," he replied nonchalantly.
Rogue snorted at the lame compliment. "Somehow I doubt that. What is it that is so important you wish to discuss?" She turned an icy glare towards him. "And no I will not sleep with you."
Gambit gasped and held his hand over his heart. "Chere you wound me, truly you do." He smirked. "At least I know what that little mind of yours be fantasizing about, belle."
Rogue's eyes grew wide in embarrassment at how he twisted her words, she stuttered her response. "Th-that is not wh-what I meant. Swamp rat!" She punched him hard in the stomach, causing the man to double over with the unexpected force. "Oh, God I'm so sorry," Rogue apologized as she found herself with one arm on his back and the other hand resting upon his arm.
Gambit caught his breath and grinned at her in his most dashing smile. "It be all right chere, just, let this Cajun talk before you get all feisty on him."
"What did you want to talk about?" Rogue asked as she abruptly stood away from him, putting distance between them while she tugged the edges of the coat around her tighter.
"Gambit wants to know if you and red-eye are the mutants from New York," he asked cutting the chase, voice deadly calm now with no trace of mirth.
"What makes you think that we're mutants?" Rogue asked cautiously. Gambit slid his glasses so that they rested on the crown of his head. He gave her a look that let her know that there was no sense in denying what he already knew. "Fine. What about it?"
"Is there any reason you're on this river boat?" Gambit demanded. He had to know. If other mutants were after him for his powers, he had to be prepared. This green-eyed belle femme might have got his heart pumping fast but he would do anything to ensure that organ kept pumping and didn't stop any time soon.
Rogue's eyes narrowed at the accusing tone. "Why? Do you have something to hide?" she countered.
Gambit took a step closer, effectively caging her against the railing with his body. His own trench coat served as his protection against her deadly skin. "This Cajun has a job to do and don't want no interference."
"Don't worry, Scott and I are here merely to gamble and have some fun." She paused as she leaned back over the water some, angling herself further away from the man before her. "We're on a vacation."
Gambit moved closer pausing when his face was mere centimeters from hers. "Good," he breathed shooting his cool breath to land upon her lips, reminding Rogue of her icy kissing experiments with the Iceman, Bobby.
"Don't press your luck, swamp rat; you don't realize that you are playing with fire. And I don't hesitate to burn." Rogue grit her teeth in annoyance but remained still, careful not to hurt the foolish man.
Gambit's eyes flickered to her lips, assessing the risk. He decided the thrill was well worth the pain that was sure to ensue as he closed the distance and pressed his lips against hers for just a moment. He drew back quickly, or more like stumbled back with a dazed expression. He closed his eyes and shook his head before looking back at the startled woman with completely focused red eyes.
"They weren't kidding, you pack quite the kiss there, chere," Gambit remarked, voice sounding drained and hollow. Amazingly enough he didn't look too weak, but then it was for a short contact. Rogue felt a burning sensation in her hands and looked down to see that her gloves were glowing.
Gambit's eyes grew wide with realization as he fully comprehended what her powers entailed. Moving with the reflexes of a jungle cat he pulled off her gloves with his own gloved fingers, careful to keep his exposed fingertips away from her flesh. He tossed her gloves into the murky water of the Mississippi right before they exploded, sending a spray of water to shower them both.
"You fool!" Rogue hissed, looking like a wet rat herself now. "Don't you ever do something so foolish again! Do you have a death wish?"
That ever present, confident smirk found its place on Remy's lips. "Remy be more careful next time, chere. You best get back to your chaperone, this Cajun has work to do." He placed his hand on the small of her back, wincing at the feel of his favorite trench coat being soaked. "Remy walk you back to your cabin, then you can give your favorite Cajun back his coat, no?"
"As if I would let you know where I was staying." Rogue twisted away from his grasp and tried to slip out of his coat.
"Look, chere, keep the coat for now. Gambit killed your gloves and there be too many people to walk through."
With a growl she put the coat back on and left him standing alone as she made her way back to her suite, careful to steer away from any accidental physical contact with others.
Remy watched her leave with a hint of fondness in his expression. "Me thinks this job may be more fun than Remy first thought." He rolled back his shoulders and then climbed down to the next deck below. Slowly he progressed towards his quarters where he could change into something less noticeable as he scouted out the locations of the jewels on his shopping list.
A/N Revised 6/3/2008
