Folks, I am so sorry for the late update. I've been staying with my sister for about a month now. It was only planned to be a night or two; not a month. Ive had my laptop to write, so I could finish this. But I was having so much fun, I forgot about writing for a bit. Thank you ALL for being so patient and whatnot. (especially airo25writes. You were one of the few to actually inquire about when the new chapter would be up. It's a ego boost to know someone wants it enough to ask, ya know?)

You can thank Chamberlin for the Big Easy description, because I wouldn't have known what to put if she hadn't given me info about the city first ;) Thanks Chamberlin!!!!

And now folks, I bring to you a golly-whopper of a chapter: a whopping 4807 words. Yeah. That's right. Twice what normally get to make up for the delay. This chapter isn't edited so don't be too upset if you find errors.

Disclaimer: I do not own X-men Evolution or anything related to Marvel. I also don't own Watchers. That's Dean Koontz.

~*-Chapter Six-*~

Logan was watching Rogue nervously sift through her duffel bag one last time to make sure she had everything she needed. The kid was a wreck. She had dark bags under eyes; she kept blinking and rubbing her eyes, showing how tired she was. He figured she had been up all night packing or fretting over what she was going to say when she found Gambit.

Tch. Please. That kid didn't deserve an ounce of her worry or her kindness. Rogue just had too big of a heart. Granted, she'd never admit it, but that's why he liked her so much. They were so much alike it seemed they were cut from the same cloth.

Either way, the fact still remained that Logan had yet to see a reason why Gambit should get all this attention. The only thing he could say positively about the man was that he was one hell of a fighter, but that was only because he'd been on the opposite side with Magneto. Therefore, in logic terms, if Compliment A equals positive and Disparagement B equals negative, then Compliment A plus Disparagement B equals zero. Meaning the kid really had nothing going for him.

And Logan sucked at math, and this still made sense to him. Now if only Rogue could see it too. Maybe she would get over this…thing she had for the snake charmer.

I sure hope so… he thought, saddened inside by her nervous tension. Rogue was never like this. She was always on top of every situation; she knew how to handle herself even when the world was falling down around her ears. Rogue was an unmoving pillar, in the figurative sense. He just couldn't see why she was in such a tizzy over this one man; a man she hadn't seen in months.

Wow. Has it really been almost a year since then? Geez. These kids have all grown up so much.

She rushed around the room, making sure everything was in its place.

Underwear? Check.

Gloves? She glanced at the two pairs of gloves dangling from the edge of her bag. Double Check.

Socks, pants, and shirts? Check, check and check. Okay. Ah think Ah'm done in here.

She ran her hands through her hair again before grabbing her bag from atop her bed and began the trek to the hangar where Kurt was waiting. As she stepped out of her room, she turned to see Logan and took a deep breath. He lifted a hand to her shoulder, tightening his grip just slightly.

"Ya sure ya wanna do this, kid? I mean, we ain't gotta go. He's just a guy. A bad guy."

Rogue hid a smirk. Logan was always such a pessimist.

"Yeah, Ah'm sure. In fact, Ah don't think Ah've ever been so sure of anything before in my life. He belongs here, Logan." She stated matter-of-factly. She knew what went through Remy's head. She knew how he thought and what he thought of most. She knew he would, without a second thought, jump in to a burning building to play hero if it meant he'd save someone in the process. The attention was just a great bonus.

The pair continued their walk through the mansion, waving casually to anyone who happened upon them in the hallways. They stopped in the kitchen for a moment to grab some snacks and canned sodas to-go before they began again for the hangar.

Once they were inside the hangar, Kurt turned his head towards while hanging upside down from a beam in the ceiling.

"Guten Tag! I thought you would never get here! Hey, are those snacks for me? Thanks!"

He teleported in front of them and made a grab for the snack-cakes they had brought. Logan shot a hand out to grasp Kurt's wrist tightly.

"No touchin', Elf. These are for the trip down, and only then. Not before."

Kurt jutted out his lower lip in a comical pout as he felt Rogue's gloved hand pat his cheek lovingly as a sister would.

"Oh, ya poor thing. Ya didn't get your Between-Mid morning-And-Pre lunch-Snack. Ya must be starvin', poor baby." She coddled him sarcastically.

He gave her a not-so-intense glare before breaking down in to chuckles as he walked with her to the X-Jet.

Once they were inside, Logan called back to them.

"Seatbelts on?" His gruff voice asked.

They both nodded and hummed an affirmative response. At this, Logan began flipping switches and toggles as they heard the engines start and the jet tremble with the sudden energy and power pushed into its being.

In a few short and rumbling moments, they were air born.

~O*- New Orleans -*O~

"C'mon, LeBeau. Don' tell us ya've gon' soft now!"

Remy grinned at the men around the small table. Of course he hadn't. He just wasn't as heartless as he used to be. There was a difference.

Unfortunately for these men, his heart didn't give a damn what happened to them. He threw in a small wad of cash from his ever-growing pile of income. This was only game four after all.

"Raise ya five hundred."

He kept his face empty for the remainder of the hand. No cutting, snide remarks about the players' mamas and their weight problems; no questioning of sexuality (or lack thereof for a couple of the guys); and certainly no bragging, but that was a personal rule. Never talk big about what you yourself have. If you did, Lady Luck would gladly take a crap on your game-mojo for a while. It had always been a little superstition of his.

He let one card fall towards the dealer, asking for another in its place. He placed it in his hand and took a look. On the outside he was still quiet, stoic and no one was the wiser. On the inside, however, he was laughing as hard as he could. These men didn't stand a chance.

He looked around the table gauging everyone else's reactions to the hands they had been dealt. One man's poker face was just awful. In fact, suffice to say it didn't even exist. He had a crap hand. Remy inwardly grinned. One down, four to go.

The next man's breath was held as he waited for his two cards he had called for. He slid them from the table to his hands eagerly. His eyes widened a fraction before the air in his lungs left him swiftly but silently. Two down, three to go.

Man number three was sweating bullets, and Remy was sure it wasn't the heat. He had had to strip his trench coat off his body not long after he had gotten here, but man number four had been wearing a white tank top the whole time. In conclusion, Remy was happy to see another person floundering at the table while trying to be inconspicuous of their hand. He just loved the flounder-ers. It was a boost to his already-inflated ego.

The fourth man held his face like a pro. Remy was unable to tell if the man was happy with his hand or screwed to hell. It wouldn' matter anyway, Remy thought as he took another glance at his cards. Three down, two to go.

Man number five just sighed and threw his cards in.

"Fold," He said in a disappointed tone.

Wise move, mon ami. Save yourself the embarrassment of bluffin' against my hand.

The dealer grabbed the folder's cards and placed them at the bottom of the stack remaining in front of him.

"Ev'ryone else?"

The first man flipped his cards face up to show the table his one pair of threes, diamond and spade, along with his five of clubs, an eight of diamonds and a six of spades.

Ouch. Dat's gotta hurt ya, buddy.

The second man laid his cards face up to reveal his low straight, ending with a seven of clubs.

Remy just grunted and shook his head.

The third man looked around the table nervously before his jittery hands placed his cards on the table; a three-of-a-kind with nines in hearts, spades and clubs, with an eight of spades and a three of clubs.

Poor guy, Remy thought. Then he chuckled to himself as he realized the double meaning.

Heh. Literally a poor guy. After dis game, his wife's gonna be huntin' his head 'cause he cleaned out their bank account in one night.

Man number four still had his blank face on, never showing any sign of giving way to weakness.

Good face, mon frère, but yer game's a little off.

Number four dropped his cards on the table to show the others. A high straight ending in the ten of diamonds was all he had. It held nothing to Remy's hand, the grand thing that it was.

Remy smiled amicably to all the men at the table. He slowly splayed his winning had across the table, taking time and effort to make sure the cards were straight and that everyone could see them clearly.

"Gentlemen, it's been a pleasure, but I believe this takes the pot."

A Royal Flush of Hearts lay before him. He placed his hands upon the table, looking each man square in the eyes. He gave a nod to them all, giving his sportsmanly "Good Game" bit to everyone present before he scooped his arms around the pile of cash in the center of the table and raking it all to a waiting box by his side. He would organize it before he left the bar.

This game was just another notch on his belt as the Untitled Poker-Champion of New Orleans. One more reason they call him Gambit.

Moments later he was strolling out of the bar, a grin spread across his face. Tonight had been fun. It had been filled with more gambling and more drinking. That was the entire world needed; to get shitfaced and gamble all their money away so there wouldn't be anything left to fight over. Hey, he was all for that plan, seeing as he doubted he'd be one of the ones losing.

His grin widened. Being arrogant was fun and all, but even more fun was the knowledge that you weren't just being arrogant; you were speaking the cold, hard truth.

His hand absent mindedly patted his right coat pocket where he felt his large wad of bills resting. A great finish tonight with a grand total of $3,460.28. He'd been goofing off earlier on in the game and had thrown in his loose change as his bet to make the others irritated. Boy had it worked. Three men had left the game after that, claiming they didn't want to play with some kid who didn't take it seriously. If only they knew what playing card games did to him. But then again, they should have known better than to get in to a game with a known-winner. He wasn't nationally famous or anything, but New Orleans bar hoppers knew the name Remy LeBeau very well. After introducing himself, those guys had had plenty of time to bail out before things got sticky for them. $800 of his total tonight came from them.

Suckers, ha ha.

He reached in to his left breast pocket for his smokes while turning to the left to take the shortcut back to his apartment. The alleyway was only three blocks from his home. He could already hear the street band playing its all-nighter gig outside the tavern just across the street. He could smell the bourbon mixing with the different foods being served to people at the street tables. It was pleasant. It was home. But it lacked something.

Another night of boredom, he thought with a sigh. Just as he was about to place the cigarette to his lips, he heard something shuffle behind him. As he moved to turn his head, he caught a glimpse of red and white and black before hearing "No!" Then the smell hit him. Acrid with the smell of rotting eggs or something else just as unpleasant, he choked on his breath before a cool, smooth hand found its way to his bare cheek.

Instantly, he was out like a light, collapsing to the pavement below. His body fell with a thud.

He didn't hear the shrieking and screaming that followed his descent in to unconsciousness.

~*O-Just before this unfortunate little incident-O*~

"Ya got that, Kurt? No talkin'!" Rogue exclaimed in a loud-whisper. They had been trudging through the whole city looking for the man since they'd gotten there two hours before. Alleyways, roads, diners; Logan was even checking the bars for them. They'd still had no luck.

Kurt grumbled as he nodded. He crossed his arms in a pouting manner.

Everyone always picks on the blue fuzzy guy. Why me?

Of course, the Cajun could just drop dead now or something and save Kurt the trouble of being out so late without a pre-midnight snack. The thief owed him $1.07 for the cost of his cheeseburger that was going cold in the jet. His stomach rumbled and Rogue turned her head, her eyes wide as her gaze travelled to his tummy.

"My Gawd, Kurt. Shut that thing up, would ya? Ah feel like Ah'm being stalked by a Watcher or somethin'."

Kurt meant to stop what he was doing so he could frown at her, but a movement behind her drew his attention away from his snappy sister. Rogue turned away from Kurt so she could see what had attracted his attention. She froze as she caught the sight of a tan trench coat. It was being worn by a figure that was making its way away from them. She saw a fingerless-gloved hand reach down to pat a pocket, almost adoringly it seemed. She saw the mop of brown hair that rested on the person's head. Kurt had no doubt who that was and an idea had formed in his head, but he'd have to be quick; there was hardly any time to act it out.

Without saying anything to Rogue, he swiftly reached a hand out and grabbed on to one of her gloves, snatching it off of her before she could say anything. He faintly heard her gasp of surprise, but he didn't care. He took the two steps forward he needed to reach her. Kurt let his hands rest on her covered arms--

"No!"

--And he teleported to just behind the nightwalker. Kurt forcefully grabbed Rogue's bare hand by the wrist and pitched her whole body forward as he brought her hand closer to the bare skin of Remy LeBeau's cheek. He could feel her resisting, trying to pull away from him and from Gambit at the same time. The moment her hand made contact with Remy's cheek, the young man had turned and caught a glimpse of his attackers. The shock was present on his face for the whole second he remained conscious before he collapsed in the alleyway; a heap of flesh and muscle to lie at Rogue's feet.

Kurt took a few steps back, his eyes wide as he realized what he'd just done. The Professor was teaching his students to never use their gifts against innocent people with malicious intent. The Cajun Thief hadn't been doing anything but walking in an alleyway at night.

I just didn't want to hear his stupid excuses and lies again. I didn't want Rogue to fall for his cheap charm. I was protecting Rogue!

Wasn't I?

He lifted his hands in front of him so his eyes could gaze upon the guilty appendages. His eyes lifted to see Rogue stumbling with her hands clutching her head. She was screaming about the pain, and 'Kurt! Why would ya…? How could ya…?'

Kurt was by her side in an instant. He tried to grip her arms lightly, but couldn't make his hands rest on her arms long enough without her slapping them away.

"What did you do?! Why did you make me do that, Kurt? He never had a chance!"

Kurt looked around nervously. He was so distraught that everything was swimming in his vision.

"I…I-I didn't want him to get a chance to lie to you again. I didn't want him to hurt you. I-I just…"

Rogue flipped her head up letting her piercing glare settle on her brother. He fumbled for words as his eyes caught her furious green orbs.

"Hurt me?! Hurt me?! Kurt! That was a sucker punch if Ah ever saw one! You got him when he wasn't lookin'! He couldn't defend himself against you or me with his back to us! And you knew that! Didn't you?! He's not gonna hurt me! How many times do Ah have to say it? And thanks to you, Ah know for a fact he wasn't gonna hurt me! He hasn't thought of nothin' but me it seems for the past three months. Do you wanna know why only three months?" she exclaimed, very irate. Her face glowed red, just as her eyes glowed green amidst the recent change from white to black sclera. He didn't have much time to realize just how crazy this looked on her. He only had enough time to save his own hide.

"Wh-why?" His voice was meek and small compared to her furious roars in the quiet night. He inwardly shuddered at the comparison. She had never been so angry with him before.

"Because he left Bayville three months ago. Do you know why he was there?"

Kurt slowly shook his head.

"He was keepin' his promise to me," she said quietly. That fact had finally been thrown around her head enough that it made sense to her now.

Remy hadn't lied to her. He had kept his promise. He had stayed away from her and watched over her personally.

She saw the nights he had spent outside her window; the days he had spent sneaking around her high school, slipping through doorways and climbing up trees just to keep up with her class schedule. He hadn't left her side until three months ago and she had never been the wiser.

She felt his self-loathing for everything that he was; thief, womanizer, cheater…mutant. The biggest question from his youth played through her mind once more:

First I had the Devil's eyes. Now I've got the Devil's touch too? Why couldn't my eyes have been enough? I can hide them with shades or contacts, but I can't hide blowing up a fork in a restaurant.

'Why me?' was what it all came down to.

The man had felt been tortured most of his life for something he couldn't help, and because of this he had settled in to being a thief because who else would take him in? The outside world had proven that it didn't want him, but this family was willing to take him in and teach him how to steal. It was a way of life they were letting him be a part of.

Everything had been fine with learning how to steal until Mattie had absent-mindedly told him, 'Remy, chile, you're heart's too big fo' ya chest. Ya just wanna help th' worl', dontcha, boy? Dat's my lil' baby boy, Remy, out to save the day, huh?' He had only been eleven at the time, and responded in kind:

'Nuh-uh, Tante Mattie! I wanna beat everyone up! I wanna be strong! I'm tired o' Theo tellin' me I'm too little to help out, or Emile sayin' he's gonna be bigger dan me! I'm gonna be bigger dan all'o dem!'

Mattie had just smiled her wise smile as she bent at the waist to pat Remy's chubby little cheek.

'Remy, you're gonna do a lot for dis world. I can feel it. And you know better dan to tell Mattie no, dontcha honeychile? 'Sides, boy, you'll always be my baby boy. Jean-Luc has Henri, Sophie has Theo, and Serge has Mercy, so can I have you?'

Remy nodded happily. If it made Mattie happy, then yes. She could have whatever he could give her. From that moment on, Remy LeBeau had become known as Mattie's Son.

Rogue flitted through the passing memories she had gathered from tonight's incident.

A young Remy hiding in a tree as Mattie and Jean-Luc tried to find him. He hadn't meant to break that plate. Now they were going to beat him just as the orphanage caretakers had done to him for even smaller accidents. When they had finally found him, he curled in to a ball at the base of the tree. He waited for the beating and was shocked when instead he felt Mattie's big, warm arms surround him gently. She began cooing in his ear softly.

"My dear baby boy. What did dose people do to ya? Did dey hurt you, baby? Your Tante Mattie won't ever hurt you like dey did. Never."

Remy had cried in her arms then. Rogue's cheeks became wet with tears at the astounding emotions that poured out of that memory. Remy had finally found a safe haven.

Next she saw a beautiful, busty blonde, all leg and breast as she strutted to Remy. Rogue felt a twinge of jealousy at seeing someone so beautiful in his life. The twinge left as the rest of the scene played out.

"Well, well. If it ain't Remy LeBeau, my future mari." A sadistic smile crept along the woman's mouth as she said this. Rogue felt Remy anger like a hot flame in her belly.

"Whatcha want Belladonna? I ain't got not'in' to say to ya til Sunday."

The smile got bigger.

"And den you'll be sayin' 'I do' to me. Dat's all I need."

Remy huffed.

"I'll believe it when I see it. Til den, get outta my way."

Bella would concede for now. She knew she had him under her thumb and there was nothing he could do about it. Too bad she never thought he'd pick a fight the day of their wedding. The next day, after their unsuccessful trading of vows, he announced his resignation from the Guild. The day after that, he was gone to New York.

Rogue felt a swell of pride settle in her gut that she could only assume was his own for his strength to leave his home behind.

Rogue then saw herself through a window. His thoughts raced through her head.

Well, well. De cherie has some traits in common wit' her roomy. Keep dem claws out chere. Scratch his eye out. Damn that Cyclops. He needs to keep his mouth shut. I oughta teach Scooter a lesson. Dat's not how you treat a lady. 'Specially a southern belle like her.

Rogue remembered that day; Scott had been reprimanding her for not doing as well as the others during their DR session that day. She had tried explaining to him that the voices in her head had been exceptionally loud that day and she wasn't fit for a session. He wouldn't take no for an answer, probably assuming she was just trying to skip out on it. He didn't hear Sabertooth roaring in her head, or Logan yelling back at 'the Big Bad Kitty Cat'. Kurt had been trying to get them both to stop and Kitty was whining about the noise. Remy's voice had been the only good thing, and even saying 'Good' was pushing it.

"Cherie! Maybe you'd like to come on down to the Bayou. I promise I'll show ya a better time than last time."

She was still trying to remember how she got his voice in her head.

What Rogue didn't remember about that day was Remy being there, in a tree outside the kitchen, peering in to through the window. The anger she felt through him was something she didn't expect. This was even before he had taken her to The Big Easy. This was when he was supposedly watching her.

Well, he'd done one hell of a job if his memory served her correctly. He'd even been a witness to one of her many arguments with their 'Oh, Fearless Leader'. And even though he was technically supposed to be on the bad guy's side, he had been on her side the whole time. He had watched her and in that time had grown to know her as no one else had. She began to understand why he had opened up to her on their trip. They truly were two of a kind.

The memory took her back to Magneto's hideout, sitting on a couch and laughing and picking with John and Pete. Everything was fine, but when Magneto and Sabertooth entered the room all the warmth and laughter seemed to die.

"Boys. I believe I told you all to be at the docks today. Why is it that you're still here?"

"Uhh…because we're lazy and don't feel like it?" John replied in a cheeky manner.

Magneto hardened his gaze on Pyro.

"So am I to assume, St. John Allerdyce, that you like prison? That you want to go back?"

John froze and his eyes widened as he gulped. Rogue felt a surge of anger that could only be Remy's. She felt the uneasiness of his two friends in the room. Pete shuffled his feet and pretended not to exist. Pyro plopped himself down on the couch next to Remy.

"And you, Mr. LeBeau. What do you have to say for yourself?"

Rogue's temper began flaring. Magneto was a condescending asshole. She could see why the boys had been glad to get away from him so quickly; could understand why Wanda hated him so much.

"Ain't got not'in to say t' ya. Ya wan' us gone, we gone."

Rogue felt herself (Remy) stand; could see him turn his gaze to his comrades. He gave them meaningful nods, and they filed out of the room.

"Oh and Gambit. I want you to take a special look at the newest girl on the team. One Rogue Darkholme. I believe you'll find her to be a special case."

Remy just nodded and continued as though Magneto had said nothing.

The scene flashed to that of the docks.

She was sitting on a crate waiting for the right moment. She began shuffling her deck of cards nervously.

'What does Magneto want wit' dis Rogue girl? Whatever it is, it can't be good. I jus' hope she can fight.'

Remy cocked his head to the side as a sound reached his ears; a small, light footstep. He grinned.

'Showtime.'

He snuck around the crates, watching with interest as the shadow of the girl crept closer. When he was sure she was close enough, he turned the corner, only to come face to face with a beautiful pair of pale green eyes. They were wide, and surrounded by dark makeup. Full lips gasped and formed an 'O', the shade of a dark blossom and they looked to be just as soft. He was thankful he'd had the mind to put his contacts in before leaving the compound; he'd hate to scare off something so pretty so soon. He heard shouting in the distance and was brought back to the task at hand. He slowly lifted a card, not caring which one as long as it wasn't his Leading Lady. He tipped the card in her direction, not once losing eye contact with her. As her petite hand grasped the card, he grinned. He wanted to see her again. Before he let the card go, he brought some of the charge back in to his body. He hadn't wanted to hurt her, just spook her. He could go back and tell Magneto he tried. As long as he got paid, he didn't care if he completed missions word for word.

Magneto could kiss his—

"Rogue! What's wrong?"

Kurt looked up just in time to see Logan running towards them, a wild fire burning in his eyes. He was ready to kill.

He must have heard Rogue screaming…oops.

"What the hell happened here? And is that…? Aww geez, you two. I walk away for a split second and you nearly kill the damn guy. What's the issue Stripes? I thought you said he was good."

Rogue growled as she lifted her hands from her head. Her glare settled on Kurt.

"Ah did. Someone must not'a heard me clear."

Logan looked to Kurt.

"You did this? I thought we agreed not to jump him."

Kurt looked to the ground nervously.

"He made me do it, Logan. He teleported me and made me use a bare hand on Remy. Remy never stood a chance."

Logan growled.

These kids were so stupid sometimes.

He glared at Kurt.

"You're carryin' him to the jet as punishment."

Kurt groaned.