It takes less than seven minutes for Remy and Laura to find a way to sneak into the warehouse. Between being raised by thieves on one hand and insidious assassin training on the other, it's almost too easy.

When they find their way into the strange lair, they merge their way into the crowd gathered around the dark-haired woman. They don't try too hard to obscure themselves. None of the people there would recognize either of them. Remy just hopes there isn't a roll call on the schedule.

Remy edges his way through the small crowd to the Rogue girl. Laura lags behind, scanning the audience, making sure none of them grew suspicious.

Remy comes up behind Rogue, spotting the white streak in her hair. He reaches slowly toward her and catches her by the crook of her elbow. She starts in surprise, glancing over her shoulder. Remy puts a finger to his lip. She looks doubtful, but stays silent.

"You alright?" the man beside her asks with a thick German accent. He glances down warily at the stranger's hold on Rogue's arm.

"Nothin' to worry about, mon ami," Remy pats his shoulder amicably. "Just glad to see dis girl here."

"Do ah know you?" Rogue raises an eyebrow.

Someone in the crowd shushes the group, saving Remy the trouble of explaining concisely. He waits for the dark-haired woman to stop lecturing. Blah, blah, reckoning, blah, blah mutant war, blah, blah, we are the future. When she's run out of slogans and dramatics, she dismisses the herd.

Rogue splits off and heads toward her bed. Remy falls into step behind her. He doesn't have to look, but he assumes Laura has found a spot to observe from a safe distance.

Rogue sits down on one of the beds, her green duffel bag still unpacked by her feet. When she looks up, she's startled to find Remy there with her.

"Who are you exactly?" she asks apprehensively.

"Call me Gambit," Remy says, standing at the foot of her bed. "I hear you's a runaway."

"Wow. That was fast."

"So y' know who be sendin' me, den?"

"Don't worry yaself over it," Rogue says. "They probably only sent ya out of obligation tah look for me. Go back and tell 'em ya couldn't find me."

Remy sighs. Infiltration was the easy part.

He moves to sit beside Rogue on the bed. "Dat ain't true, chere," Remy tells her as he lowers himself onto the springy mattress. "Dere was dis one goofy kid, Bobby. He seemed awful concerned."

Rogue scoffs, then meets Remy's eyes. "Ah think he'll live."

Remy frowns. "What'd de kid do?"

"Nothin' ah blame him for," she responds sincerely. "We kinda dated. And he kinda. . .didn't want to anymore."

"He broke up wit' you?" It didn't sound right. This girl wouldn't run off over one relationship gone sour.

"No. No one else was interested in me. He knew that. He stayed with me, but I could tell he didn't want to. He's a nice guy. He tries to do nice things. Still felt pretty mean, though."

"Gambit never has dat problem," Remy smirks. "He ain't nice enough."

Rogue chortles at that.

"Why would no one else be interested?"

"What?"

"Y' said dat Bobby expected no one else t' be interested in y'," Remy recalls. "Lemme tell y', chere, I'm havin' a hard time wit' that. Y' got plenty goin' for you." He gives Rogue a pointed once-over, eyes skimming over her body before meeting her eyes again. He thinks she sees her blush.

"Did they not tell ya what my mutation is when they sent ya?" Rogue asks, averting her gaze. "Or, well, what it used to be."

"My friend told me it was somethin' t' do wit' touch," Remy recollects.

"Yeah," she affirms. "Ah couldn't touch anyone without absorbing their memories, personality, and life force. If they were a mutant, ah'd suck up their powers, too."

This startles Remy a bit. "Whoa."

"Yeah. Whoa."

"But you're Cured now, so what's de problem?"

"What are ya talking about it? There's tons of problems. The institute is a school for mutants. Ah'm not technically a mutant anymore."

"So y' ran because y' was Cured?"

"No. Kind of. It's complicated."

He considers this. "Fair 'nough. Dat doesn't change what I was sent for."

"Ah'm not goin' with ya, Gambit."

"Well, I ain't gonna kidnap you, so it seems we got a stalemate."

"Ah'm sorry, but ah—"

"Excuse me."

Remy and Rogue peer up at the source of the new voice.

"Mystique!" Rogue indentifies her. She looms over the pair, arms crossed over her chest.

"I don't seem to recognize your friend here, Rogue," she glares down at Remy.

Remy stands, straightening his sunglasses. "Pleased t'meet you, chere," he plasters on his most charming grin. "Would y' mind a couple more supporters of y' cause?"

She squints at him. Remy senses absolutely no trust coming from her. "You're Cured?"

"I'm Cajun, actually."

Mystique glare hardens, if that's even possible.

"Dat was a joke, chere. S'okay t' laugh, non?"

"Take off the glasses," Mystique requests sternly.

Rogue barely sees it, but she thinks she notices Gambit's jaw clench at the command. He snaps back into charm and easiness so quickly, Rogue's sure she imagined it.

"Why we startin' off our relationship wit' such a personal request?"

"Take them off," she demands more harshly.

Remy runs a hand through his hair, buying himself a few seconds to think. He shakes his head ever so slightly, a message to Laura, warning her, wherever she is, to not take offensive action just yet.

If he takes them off, the leader of this shindig finds out he's a mutant, and his cover's blown. Keeping them on, however, raises enough doubt to assume just as much.

Then again, this isn't the Thieves Guild or something. This is a renegade group of ex-mutants crammed in a room of boxes.

"Y' want to increase y' numbers or not? Gambit's got his reasons for keepin' his eyes covered. Maybe I got sensitive eyes. Or maybe dis Rogue girl is so radiant and beautiful, Gambit's just tryin' to keep from goin' blind."

"You always speak in third person?" Rogue cuts in.

"Gambit doesn't," he replies.

Mystique narrows her eyes at Remy's sunglasses. He meets her gaze levelly, not the she can see it through the shades. He hopes he just exudes confidence.

Pfft, who am I kidding? he thinks. Of course I do.

"At the first sign of your jeopardizing our mission, you're gone," Mystique decides.

Remy salutes her. "Yes, sergeant. Sho can't wait for my retribution and various other Cured-mutant perks."

Mystique rolls her eyes, and then saunters off to wherever she does mastermind thing.

"Why'd ya do that?" Rogue asks when Mystique's out of earshot.

"Y' know I'm here for you, Rogue," Remy explains. "I don't wanna take you against you're will, so it looks I'm stickin' around until you're will changes."


A/N: Hooray! They've finally met! Now, how do I grovel for feedback without sounding like I'm groveling for feedback?