Cheers for the reviews!

-Gams

Chapter One – I'm Not Ready for a Handshake with Death

The music of the night became lulled with sleep as the midnight lights turned few and dim. The tourists had deserted the French Quarter along with many a regular but there were still a couple of regular night owls still out on the prowl. Swaggering slightly in his step, Remy stepped out of the bar only to be pulled back by the tail of his beloved trench coat. The buxom blonde- or was she really a brunette? – he had had the pleasure of speaking to most of the night pulled him back to her for a last, alcohol-fuelled kiss. As she did so, he felt her slip something- a phone-number on a napkin-into his coat. She whispered a couple of sweet, X-rated nothings into his ear which caused him to chuckle huskily but pull away nonetheless. He stumbled slightly onto the streets as he casually fled the woman's arms. With the excuse he was not fit to drive- let alone drive her back to his place, he had expertly left the bar in a fabricated drunken swagger. It was only after bidding his friends goodnight (for the millionth drunken time) and slipping around the corner that he reverted to his perfectly sober state and swagger. With a slight sigh, he ran a hand through his chin-length auburn hair and continued onwards down the now-quiet street. On any other night he would've taken a blonde or a brunette on their offer but he dared not tempt the fates further this night. He would already have hell to pay when he returned home. A disgruntled sigh escaped Remy as he tucked his hands into the depths of his pockets.

"Three months. Three more months..."

Before he could fall any deeper into his pending doom, the sound of hurried footsteps caught his ears. He stopped on the spot. His unusual gaze narrowed as it swept over the empty street way ahead. As he continued to listen, he waited for the running figures to appear. From where he stood, he knew they couldn't be far but it was his empathy abilities that made him certain. His empathy picked up on a mixture of emotions. On a grander scale, probably more than one person, there was anger and adrenaline. On a smaller scale, of which he figured could only be one person, he felt an abundance of fear masked behind a drive of determination.

Instinctively, Remy reached into one of the many pockets of his coat and fastened his fingers over the cool length of metal concealed within. His gaze narrowed to a distant building wall. Shadows danced across the bricks, followed swiftly by the distinct sound of male voices that called out without caution to open ears.

"Bring her back! Don't let 'er get away! De famille want her alive-"

Call it honour, call it a defect of his Tante's teachings, but as soon as the men's words touched his ears, Remy was following at a vast pace. Running, he withdrew the piece of metal from his coat pocket only for it to extend its length with an unsheathed hiss.

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Marie let out a growl of aggravation as she came to a halt in front of a dead-ended alley way. After finally shaking the Assassins off some streets back, she had pushed herself to keep moving. She wasn't accustomed to the French Quarter's bends and turns but her primal instincts had pushed her as far away from them as she could run. Her breath came out in frantic pants and her heart thundered against her rib cage. Swallowing, her emerald gaze flickered across the dark space of the alley in search of an escape. She could hear the men's voices from the distance.

"Come on! Think Marie, think!"

She just about jumped out of her own skin as the sound of movement from nearby erupted with a crash, breaking her from her panicked thoughts. Turning to a defensive stance, she twisted around only for her gaze to land on a fire escape and a few trash cans against the wall. She kept her defences locked as she waited for whatever moved to come out. After a few dead-silent moments, the blurred form of a black alley cat skidded across her feet and ran out of the alley way in a panic. Marie let out a sigh of relief but it was laced with irritation. She had always hated cats. However her musings were quickly silenced. The sound of male voices was suddenly a lot louder than it had been five minutes ago. On a whim, Marie reached for the fire escape ladder and carefully climbed to the top. She slipped over the railing to stand on the small balcony in a low crouch. Keeping to the shadows, she tried to stay as silent and still as possible and watched as six figures stepped into the mouth of the alley.

"She couldn't have gone far- check de alley, she could be hidin' in dere. De rest o' y', continue down dere. We haven't had dis chance in years, it would be a dishonour not t' bring her back dis time."

Marie tried to keep her breathing steady as she watched three of the figures step into the dim light that stretched from the alley entrance. Clad in black coats, the three Assassins brandished typical medieval blades. Each blade was built with a wide hilt and encrusted with gold and silver filigree. The three spread out amongst the narrow space, their eyes set to the open spaces between them. Marie took a silent, deep breath before reaching for the low of her back. Her gloved hand grasped the gun strapped around her waist with a silence only copious practice could master. She made sure the silencer was attached before she pulled the trigger. With a cry of pain, one of the Assassins tumbled to the ground. His cries and the clatter of his heavy blade cut through the silence as the remaining two assassins whirled around to face their unseen enemy.

Marie was about to pull the trigger a second time when a numbing pain overwhelmed her body, causing her gun to fall from her grasp as she began to shake violently. Her mouth opened in an outcry of pain before the electrical charge became dulled to an almost blinding aching sensation. Her body became limp; her knees gave way before she could even think of turning to face her assailant. She needn't have to in the end. As her body lay helplessly against the metal grating of the balcony, Julien Boudreaux overstepped her from his place in the open window and with an oddly tender hand, pushed her onto her back. Contrary to the situation, his voice held a casualness that was most unsuitable. Or was it simply unsettling?

"Don't worry ma belle. De effects will ware off by mornin.' Dis-"

He indicated to the weapon in his grasp. Though like a handgun, the power neutralizer was longer, sleek even. Julien caressed its length with a tenderness better suited to a pet cat as he smirked down on her. What Marie wouldn't give to smack that look right off his face.

"-was necessary. Je suis désole ma amour mais vous ne me laissait pas le choix. Vous me pardonnerez avec le temps." (I am sorry my love but you left me no choice. You will forgive me with time)

Marie wanted to retort, to lash out the anger that burned through her very skin but the effects of the neutralizer left her mouth useless for such an effort. She could barely manage to glare at him properly as he tucked his weapon beneath his coat and continued to smirk down on her like the cat that got the cream. Julien had always had a sadistic sense of triumph and his victory dance was far from over. He made sure to kick her gun off the balcony as he squatted before her. Tilting his head to one side, he let his gaze sweep over her limp form. His gloveless fingers reached out for her only to gently stroke her cheek. Marie was proud to say she had the strength to shrink away from his touch. A low chuckle escaped him as he replied in a playful tone.

"Shy are we? Y' were never a shy girl ma belle. Mais it has been what? Five years since we last crossed paths?"

As he spoke his fingers reached out for her once more, this time to trace her full lower lip. Marie tried to move away but her body just didn't seem to realise whose control it was under. His rough finger tips traced her mouth with a gentleness that sent unpleasant shivers down her numbed skin. It was disturbing to think that he could cause such a reaction in her when her body was so numb of anything else. She assumed it was years of loathing him that brought her to such a reaction. His cold blue eyes continued to trace over her form indecently as he replied in a low voice.

"Shyness is quite becomin' on y' chérie. Mais where be dat Southern spitfire I knew hahn? Where's de fire in dem eyes?"

His fingers trailed from her lips, coursing shivers of disgust within her as they trailed over her jaw line to trace over the skin-tight fabric that encased her throat. Marie had never wished for a gun in her grasp so badly and by god did he know it. She was well aware that he knew how much his ministrations disgusted her, angered her. However his fingers were not allowed any further than her throat. Like a snake slithering stealthily beneath a trapper's feet, a long rod of metal appeared from the dark only to point like the tip of a sword at Julien's throat.

"C'est plutôt faible de se sentir à une femme quand elle n'est pas en état de repousser les advances." (That's rather low to feel up a woman when she is in no condition to reject advances)

Marie strained to turn her neck to see where the voice had come from. Her neck permitted her slightly, only for her to catch a glimpse of a pair of glowing red orbs suspended in darkness. She would have gasped had she the ability. Her eyes shifted to Julien only to find him standing again, facing the figure in the dark. His brow had furrowed slightly while his jaw tightened with silent anger. His response was cold if not obviously hateful.

"Stay out o' what don't concern y' LeBeau. Dis is mon business. Mon Pére may embrace y' like a son, mais y' no brother t' moi." (my father)

As if to emphasise his point, he over stepped her to face the man who stood balanced on the balcony railing. Marie could only make out the pair of red eyes- as she realised they were. The metal staff whipped the air as the figure raised it like a sword before him. He reverted to a Cajun tongue of English as he replied.

"What concerns de Assassins, concerns de T'ieves Julien. Or have y' forgotten de treaty y' signed not a week ago?"

Julien gave a snide scoff laced with disgust. A grimace spread across his lips as if he wanted nothing more than to spit on Gambit's words...and draw his blood. His scowl only deepened as he hissed back.

"Pen on paper never did anyt'ing f' moi. Now back de fuck off!"

The man had the cockiness- or perhaps the stupidity –to chuckle at Julien's far from playful threat.

"S' funny. I have de same regard f' empty t'reats."

That was all it took for Julien to snap. With the whip of his coat, he withdrew his sword and made a direct lunge at Gambit's unseen figure. Though Marie flinched at his actions, anticipating a cry of unbearable pain, the blade sliced air and not flesh. Marie began to feel some movement in her limbs as she struggled to see what was going on around her. It was like a game of cat and mouse. While Julien continued to expertly slice through the darkness, Gambit continued to successfully dodge and aim his own bruises. It was a well matched fight.

Below, Marie could hear the two remaining Assassins rooting their comrade on. Marie growled inwardly at her own helplessness. If she could just see what was going on!

It was when the Assassins below began to cry out in alarm that Marie realised that Julien had been knocked over the railing and sent plummeting into the pile of trash cans below. Marie barely had the energy let alone the time to push herself up to see if he was alive when she felt a pair of hands wrap around her and pull her upwards in one near-effortless action. However before she could try to object, Gambit had carefully ("Désole chére, mais dis be de only way-") wrapped her over his shoulder and began to climb the wall with the litheness of an acrobat. Marie had felt a slight tingle of fright in her stomach as her gaze fell on the ground growing farther and farther away. She had never been afraid of heights, it was simply the fact that she couldn't really move and she was completely reliant on this stranger's good grip on both her and the wall. Who wouldn't be anxious of falling to their death in such circumstances? She was assured slightly when the Cajun called back that he wouldn't let her go. Just a little.

The ride wasn't over when they reached the top of the building. With an arm securely wrapped around her waist and her feeble grip on his back, Gambit began to run across roof tops. The sudden rush of anxiety that came every time they leapt from one roof to another was swift the first couple of times but after several jumps it was all but second nature. Still, Marie held onto him with all her strength. Some blocks away, the cries of outrage from Assassins became distant as they made their way down another fire escape into a similar dark alley. It was here that Gambit suggested they stay on the ground and take a breather before they moved any further. He gently eased her to sit with her back against the wall before slumping casually against it himself. He wiped his brow with the back of his hand and took a deep breath before smirking down on her.

"Well, dat was fun non?"

In the light of a nearby street lamp Marie was finally able to see his face. Her eyes widened for a moment as they locked onto the most unusual set of eyes staring back at her. Encased in black where there should have been white, a pair of red jewels glowed brightly from a handsome Adonis-not face. It was only perfected by a charming, devilish smirk. It took her several moments to realise he had said something though.

"Are y' alright chére?"

Judging by the authentic look of concern, she was sure that he was enquiring to her neutralized state and not her staring. After a moment, Marie found her voice again but it was rasped with exhaustion and a sudden dryness. Her gaze fell to the floor as she placed a hand to her temple.

"Jus' a lil' dizzy. He zapped meh with some power neutralizer..."

He looked surprised by her words.

"Y' a mutant?"

Marie eyed him cautiously as she replied in equal measurement. The absence of her gun around her waist left her feeling slightly uneasy. A gun was a means of security if not a means of defence.

"Yes."

To her surprise, he brandished another devilish smirk that spoke nothing but confidence and cockiness. It was obvious his Adonis-not looks came with a package deal of charm.

"Y' 'ave no'ting t' be anxious about belle (beautiful). Gambit be a mutant too. Y' in good hands he promises."

Marie raised a sceptical brow at him. Was he for real? Any man who carried himself with such airs was bound to have an ego to boot.

"What be y' name chére?"

Marie was about to answer that it wasn't any of his business but the sudden outcry of familiar voices made her silent. Without another word, Gambit reached for her and made to pull her into his arms only for Marie to pull away and insist that she could walk on her own. Gambit gave another devilish smirk before swiftly picking her up in his arms in a bridal fashion. They- he was running at a quick pace by the time he got around to defending himself against her aggravated glare.

"We need t' be runnin' now chére. Don't t'ink y' gonna be much help walkin'."

Marie would've put up a fight about being carried like some helpless damsel but the fact was her legs were barely able to stand her up let alone carry her in a chase. So she kept her hold around Gambit's neck and thanked God that he was a fast runner. However it soon turned out that no amount of running would save them that night. As they rounded a deserted street corner, three forgotten figures stepped into view. With their swords raised, they ran towards them in attack. Marie could only watch in horror as they approached, knowing this was a no-win end to their winning streak. However what she didn't count for was for Remy to set her quickly on her feet and tuck her behind him as he yelled for her to close her eyes and stay where she was. Flashes of magenta danced across her closed eyes followed by a soundtrack of pained cries and bodies falling heavily to the ground. When Marie did open her eyes, she found three unconscious Assassins lying at their feet. Their clothes, she noticed with a frown, were burnt in places while a residual smoke rose to the air. She turned to Gambit with a questioning look, only to find her answer literally glowing before her. Several playing cards were laced between his fingers, each emitting a magenta glow that was almost hypnotic. Marie needn't ask what had caused such burns on their assailants anymore but she continued to stare with open astonishment well after the cards had lost their charged glow. She was broken from her amazement abruptly however when she noticed a new glow of red barely the size of a small dot...a small dot aimed directly over Gambit's heart.

"GET DOWN!"

Without a thought, Marie lunged forward to push him out of the way of the gunman's aim. She fell with him as he stumbled back against the brick wall but in her actions, it only delayed the bullet by a body's worth. There was a sickening sound that ripped through the air as the bullet passed through her body but she didn't feel the pain.

Not for a good elongated moment.

It was as if the world had suddenly slowed down. Each breath that rose and fell in her lungs suddenly burned. Her breath hitched and suddenly the numbness she had felt from the neutraliser was nothing compared to the cold that suddenly engulfed her senses.

Only then did she realise she was bleeding.

That they were both bleeding.

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Remy had always had a weakness for women. Beautiful, Sexy, Whispering-X-rated-nothings-into-his-ear women. Damsels in distress were merely a once-in-a-while perk. But when Julien Boudreaux came onto the scene it was a motive for interest as well as involvement. When he had heard the first outcry of pain, he had picked up the pace only to find the remaining three Assassins had cornered the woman into the alley with no escape route except for one; through them. Getting into the building had been easy, waiting for the opportune moment was difficult. In the time it took him to reach the right floor in the building, Julien had managed to pull the power neutralizer out and fire at will. However it was Julien's treatment of the woman afterwards that made his blood boil. From his empathy, he felt an abundance of disgust and anger from the woman and it didn't take a genius to work out who it was intended for. Her emotions acted as motivation for his actions against Julien. Peace treaty or not, his honour would not allow Julien to brutalize this woman. This...intriguing, beautiful woman. When they had gotten away and taken a rest in that alley, he had taken the time to look her up and down. Her curvy form was clad completely in a form-fitting black outfit that left only her face uncovered. Her complexion was pale and was only intensified by the pair of platinum white streaks that framed her heart-shaped face. Her two-toned auburn hair was attractive if not intriguing. However it wasn't any of these features that left him staring the most. Flecks of green ice stared back at him from between a curtain of white. Her eyes were such an intense emerald that one was in danger of drowning in them. And boy did he want to. However, the thrill and danger of the chase was quick to catch up with them. He cursed having gone to the bar earlier. Though he hadn't drunken himself into a stupor, he had had a few beers and it simply wasn't ethical to drink before running for your life. Or another's for that matter.

When the three Assassins cornered them at the corner of the street, he had honestly been surprised he hadn't heard or sensed them coming but hadn't the time to ponder over it as they began their attack. He had tried to be as careful with the woman as possible while he set her on her feet behind him.

"Close y' eyes et stay where y' are!"

He should have known it was all too easy, that the Assassins attack was all too cliché and predictable to be the only piece of the puzzle. When the three men were down however, all he could do was drown in those pools of green as they observed the scene before her...as they shifted from the charged cards in his hands to meet his gaze. He hadn't anticipated what happened next. Not the laser aimed at his heart or her actions.

It all happened so fast.

One moment they were standing, soul gazing through the red and green windows of their eyes. The next they were bleeding against the pavement with a bullet through their chests.

Hit two birds with one stone.

Those words held too much truth for his liking.

Then all of a sudden the world slowed down. What had happened in a mere thirty seconds became an hour- an age. As he slumped against the brick wall behind him, he felt a cold numbness overtake his body though the wound over his heart still burned. None of it seemed to register after his gaze fell onto the angel dying in his arms. One of her arms hung limply over his shoulder from when she had tried to push him out of the way. She laid against him as her frantic heart continued to thunder between their bleeding chests while her head lay almost loosely against his shoulder. Her gentle, frantic rasps of air made him aware of just how much he was struggling to breathe as well.

But since when had the raggin' Prince of Thieves ever let anything keep him from helping a beautiful woman?

Though it pained him deeply, somehow he managed to turn her onto her back so he could look into those emerald pools before the end came too close. A pained gasp escaped her lips and he found himself apologizing for it though both knew it couldn't be helped. Guilt was quick to come as he stared into her angelic, deathly-pale face. She was young. Not that younger than him but still, too young to die such a gruesome death. Too beautiful for that matter. Those emerald eyes were already flickering while her breaths became deeper. Her body continued to shut down. Remy found himself raising a shaky hand to stroke one of her porcelain cheeks. Her body was still warm and it lightened his heart in ways he couldn't explain or understand. Not that it mattered anymore. He managed a shadow of his classic charming smile and spoke softly.

"It be arlight ma chére...it...it won't hurt much longer..."

He wanted her last moments- their last moments to be the sweetest last moments on this Earth. Remy continued to stroke her cheek as a single tear streamed down her cheek. As he wiped it away, he wished he could ask her why she was crying but his voice would not permit him...

Darkness was quick to take him...

Don't hurt me! I swear this is all part of the plan!

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-Gams