Author's Note: I'm so glad you guys like my characterizations, so awesome, thank you for reviewing! Rogue I'm trying to go for a 'Like Mother, Like Daughter' using the FC Raven's characterization and what she would impart onto an adopted daughter. As for Gambit, for some reason I see him as Neal Caffrey (or James Bond) meets Spike Spiegel meets Harry Dresden (from the books, not show)… whatever happens here, don't underestimate him. ;-) And unfortunately this is the last we'll see of the Brotherhood for awhile, but they haven't been forgotten, they'll be back. :D


Chapter Six

Manhattan - New York City

It can be hard to tell when exactly sunset comes to the City that Never Sleeps, but like a good Southern gal, Rogue went with the Farmer's Almanac to judge such things and therefore found herself on the corner of Worth and Broadway as the sky darkened from pinks to blues. The wind kicked up and she was tempted to turn up the collar on her leather jacket as her hair was in a ponytail and the cold was creeping in from the light dusting of snow still on the ground.

She wasn't sure what kind of heist the Cajun had in mind and so was dressed for just about anything. Lightweight, not clunky, combat boots on the feet, almost form-fitted black cargo pants on the legs, loose enough for movement, and a long-sleeve dark green cotton shirt. Her gloves were expensive, handmade of the finest supple leather. Sturdy but thin as to allow her greater movement and flexibility for anything delicate without her having to resort to taking them off.

It would also make it easier to strangle the Cajun if this was some kind of set up.

"Cheri," the voice came from behind her and she didn't let it be shown how much it bothered her that the thief had managed to sneak up on her. "Punctual, like dat in a woman."

"Next time I'll be late," she threw back, turning to face him.

He chuckled, grinning down at her from under the brim of his hat, "I'll keep dat in mind, petite."

Rogue was pretty sure she would end up smacking him if they kept this conversation going, so she got down to business, "What's tha job, Cajun."

"See da tower dere," he used his cane to point up at a rather tall apartment skyscraper, a not too uncommon sight in the city, "top five floors belong to a rather rich fellow who is a little miffed dat I've… divested him of several valuables over da past few years."

"I bet," she snorted, checking out the design of the building, the tallest structure in the area, mostly glass exterior, non-opening windows of course, possible balconies for the penthouse. "So, what, yah want me ta fly yah up there?"

"Save your strength, cheri," he started to walk down the street, like any other dapper gentlemen, can tapping lightly on the ground, "you follow Remy, when he needs you, you'll know."

"Okay, yeah," she waved her hands in a 'no-go' gesture, "if we're going to work together, yah need ta stop referring ta yourself in tha first person."

He paused, glancing back at her, "Why don't you start calling me by my name, Remy, instead of dose loving nicknames, huh, cheri?"

She chewed on her lip, thinking it over, "How about Gambit?" Yeah, she could live with that.

"Deal," the thief continued walking down the street and she had to jog to catch up with him.

They headed to an alley next to the building, he picked a lock on what looked like a storm shelter in seconds and lifted the door, "Ladies first."

She raised an eyebrow at him but ultimately shrugged and dropped down into the darkened room, prepared for anything. Nothing immediately attacked so she pulled a small mag-lite from her pocket and shown it around.

"It's always tha closets," she mused at the familiar sight. "I ever build a lair I'm putting attack drones in all tha maintenance and storage rooms."

"Smart fille," Gambit commented as he joined her, "dis way."

They went through a door and down a short hall, stopping at the corner. She stashed her light and peaked around him to see moving cameras slowly scanning back and forth. "How many of those we have ta get through?"

"Enough to get us to da security room," his face was intent, watching as each of the three cameras swung on their arms.

She was almost afraid to ask, "How far is tha security room?"

"Two rights and a left," he practically mumbled back, still watching for any pattern, "stay close to me cheri, we gonna have to time dis right."

For once she wasn't going to make a snappy retort, not only could she tell the seriousness in his voice but she also agreed, they didn't have QuickSilver's speed, they had to do this the old fashioned way.

"Now," he gave her no other warning but she didn't need it, years of survival training in the Brotherhood had taught her the value of quick and decisive action.

She ended up latching onto his arm so she could follow his movements better as he both sped up and slowed down, trying to stay in the camera's blind spots. They made it through the first right without a problem, ducking behind a large cabinet that someone had left in the hallway. Gambit took a second to judge the cameras in the new hall before setting out again.

Their steps were light, almost musical in their attempt to move to the beat of the camera's motions.

One more right and now they were stuck in a small alcove where a building strut jutted out of the wall, it felt too easy though she supposed not many thieves were as quick on their feet as the Cajun. She had to cheat now and again and use her flight ability to be dragged along. Give the man props, he knew what he was doing.

"One more corner," he mumbled, concentrating, "dis one is da trickiest."

Rogue had no doubt he was talking from experience.

"Okay, we can't do dis one together," he finally seemed to agree with himself on the assessment, "blind spots aren't big enough. Think you can follow in my footsteps?"

"Well, anything yah can do, I can probably do at least as well," she said with a straight face and the thief turned his head to stare, a look fused between confusion and bemusement, "Hey, I'm just a realist, yah are tha 'greatest thief in the world' are yah not?"

That put the sparkle back in his eyes, "Aye, cheri," and with that he dashed off down the hall stopping, pausing and dodging the angles before getting to the door at the end.

She watched as he went, committing every motion of the dance to memory and silently cheering when he made it, not that she'd admit that out loud. Now it was her turn.

Each camera moved in a set pattern, she only had to wait until they lined up…

Dashing out as Gambit had done she mimicked each step, even throwing in a twirl instead of a dodge, not letting the shabby ruffian have all the flare in the room.

"Not bad, cheri," he grinned at her as she joined him at the door of the security room. "Not bad at all."

She took entirely too much pleasure in having the King of Thieves applaud her skill, so instead she questioned. "Why aren't there any cameras pointed at tha door?"

"To avoid hackers getting a video of da keypad," he pointed at the small silver keypad embedded into the wall.

"Ah," made sense, it would be a great way to get an access code, "did yah steal someone's code?"

"Non," he squatted down to get eye level with the keypad, using his cane for balance, "didn't have an opportunity to, so going to let da keypad do da talking for me."

"Yah can't possibly read tha key code from tha key pad," she stifled a laugh at the thought but then this was Remy LeBeau she was talking to, "can you?"

"Time leaves wear on all things, petite," his intensive gaze studied the angles of light reflecting off each key, "and people are predictable, da way dey slide from one key to da other. A keypad is an open book, you only have to know da language."

"Okay," she thought deeply about what he was saying, "now I'm very suspicious that yah didn't cheat some poor guard out of their code and are just trying ta impress me."

"Is it working?" he grinned up at her.

She couldn't believe she was saying it, but "Maybe."

"Good," he stood up, "I always like to impress da lady on da first date."

She shook her head, "Oh, so not going ta dignify that."

Chuckling he moved out of the way of the keypad, slipping two cards from his sleeve, "You type in da password, I'll disable da guards inside."

Suddenly she sobered, she hadn't ever worked with the man and he didn't have the reputation for leaving bodies… she had to make sure, "Disable them?"

"Don't fret, cheri," his cards began to glow softly between his fingers, his biker-gloves cut off above the knuckle, "just enough to stun dem. A good thief gives you a reason to chase dem, a great thief never gives you a better reason to hunt dem."

Satisfied with the answer she stood at the ready, "What's tha code?"

"5, 9, 3, 5, 2," he said and she ran them through her head to remember them.

"Ready?" she asked and he nodded, his free hand on the knob of the door, "Here goes, 5," she punched in each number as she said it aloud, "9, 3, 5, 2."

To Rogue's amazement the lock popped and Gambit was quick to swing the door wide. He stepped in and the two cards flew from his hands with a sizzling noise that echoed in the quiet room. Two men shouted then there was a thud.

She followed him in and quickly went over to the fallen guards, they were only knocked out as he said.

"Why don't you tie dem up, petite," the Cajun moved the security desk and began to type at it, "need to sort out what new security measures were put in place."

"Yah mean yah don't know?" she pulled zip-tie's from one of the guards pockets then looked around to see a table welded to the ground and drug the first one easily over to it.

"I know he designed it with me in mind," he said the words with a touch of pride in his voice.

But if he didn't know what security was put in place, "Then how do yah know yah need someone who can fly?"

"A rumor," he shrugged, brining up a different screen.

Rogue shook her head, she seemed to do that a lot around the Louisianan. She dragged the other guard over and zip-tied them both, removing any phones and radios from their person before joining him at the console.

"You're not shy are you, petite?" he asked, tapping away at the keyboard.

"I'm afraid ta ask," she replied wryly.

"I can loop da cameras for everything except da penthouse," he pointed to the screens, "dose floors are not controlled from here. Distinct possibility dat we'll leave something to be found later. I don't mind him knowing it was me, but can't speak for you."

"I suppose I could always claim I was bedazzled by yah devilish charms," she dripped every bit of sarcasm she could into the words. Scanning the screens she found the level he was speaking about, several items laid out in display cases like a gallery. One image showed two guards sitting at a desk outside the entrance. "Only two?"

"Dat's all he needs for most thieves," he said absentmindedly, studying another screen, an image of some ancient gold dagger sitting in a glass case in the middle of the room, "and for me he had something special in mind."

"Great," she was not enthusiastic. "So what's tha plan?"

He chuckled again, "You're gonna love dis."

The two men were supposed to be watching the cameras but instead had the game on with the security feed in their peripheral. They couldn't figure out why their employer was so paranoid, but the money was good, so what could they say?

A ding sounded from down the entryway where the elevators were and both of their head's popped up to see what was happening.

"Boss back early?" David's asked his partner.

"No," the man answered with a shake of his head, "and no expected visitors either, why don't you check it out."

David gave the other guard a sour look but it was his turn, so he stood and walked down the hallway about thirty feet to the elevator foyer. One of the doors was stuck open and he was just about to clear a view of the car when two figures stumbled out.

"And then he was like, .god! I could totally have died," the woman said in what sounded like a fully inebriated tenor. She was hanging off the arm of a man in a brown trench and hat that stumbled as badly as she did, both almost crashing to the ground. He couldn't get a good look at the man the way he fell about but the woman struck a fine figure in her tight leather jacket.

"Excuse me," he said to the couple in a very annoyed tone, this was the last thing he needed tonight, two drunk and spoiled rich kids causing him to write up a report and miss the last bit of the game.

"Wait, wait," the woman started to stumbled around, staring up at the elevator numbers, "nnoooooooooo, this is tha wrooooooooong floor," she swung around, pulling the man on her arm and he stumbled after her, the two completely trashed.

"You're going to have to leave, now," David tried to usher the couple back into the elevator when they spun around again. This time the man in the trench stopped inches from him and the guard could finally get a clear look at his face. "LeBeau!"

He had been warned about the thief with red irises and special skills but the guard had thought it exaggeration. With a flick of the rough-looking man's wrist a playing card went flying past David's face, a slight trail of pinkish-purple glow following it. The guard knew he should keep his eyes on the intruder but it happened so fast and the move so random he couldn't help but follow the projectile to see it explode against his partner, knocking him to the ground before he could hit the alarm.

David had never seen such a thing before in his life and he gapped at the thief who grinned and said, "Behind you."

Then it all went black.

Rogue clonked the man on the back of the head with her fist, just enough to send him into a nice nap while they stole whatever it was they came for. "Please tell me my sole purpose was not ta act tha floozy in tha old 'stumbled onto tha wrong floor' routine?"

"Non, cheri," he almost looked hurt by the implication, "dat was just a bonus."

She shook her head again, she was really going to have to stop doing that, and pulled the guard over to the desk. "Can't believe that worked."

"Da classics are classics for a reason, petite," he politely informed her as he sat at the console and began to tap away. Funny, she wouldn't take him for much of a computer guy but then she supposed all thieves had to adjust with the changing digital world. "A good thief can handle complicated, a great thief knows simple is best."

Cuffing the guards as she had done down in the security room, Rogue noticed a series of black and white surveillance photos taped to the desk. They were all of Gambit, mostly of him looking up at the camera with a taunting smile on his face. "Huh, look at that."

The Cajun studied the images for a moment, a silly grin on his face, likely reliving the joy of past conquests.

"I'm surprised they didn't recognize yah right away," Rogue added dryly.

"Because cheri, dey weren't expecting you," he glanced up at her, his eyes just visible under the hat, "I always work alone. You're my first," he said the last sentence with a sparkle in the red irises.

"Somehow, sugah," she said sweetly, "I highly doubt that."

He kept grinning but stood from the desk, heading over to the wall next to the entrance into the gallery proper. Using a pocket knife he removed a panel and had a look at the wires and electronics inside.

Not that she would ever admit it to the thief, as he'd get the wrong idea, but she was actually enjoying herself. It felt good to be on a job and be treated as a partner, not a tool. She loved her Brotherhood pals like, well, brothers, but they did have a tendency to see her as her abilities and what she could do. Course, that's how they saw everyone so she didn't take it personally.

Eventually Gambit would turn the same eye towards her, they always do, but that didn't mean she couldn't enjoy it while it lasted.

"Clever," the thief said admirably, stepping back from the wall and moving to the front of the entrance hall.

Rogue could see the moving laser grid that ran the length of the hallway. They rose from anywhere between two to four feet off the ground and looked a might tricky to anyone other than the world champion limbo dancer. "Can you shut it off?" she asked, squatting down to get a better look at how much clearance there was.

"Non," he let out a puff of annoyance, "everything has pressure and kinetic sensors on dem, closed circuit system, and if we trip da lasers or cut da power da whole place locks down."

"I could touch one of tha guards," she offered, "get tha passcodes."

"Hhm?" he looked as if he hadn't even considered that possibility, but now that he did, "non, dey don't have access to shut it off. Da gentleman wouldn't want me to be able to cheat one of his poor guards out of his codes, now would he?"

She took it all in and had to chuckle, "This guy really doesn't like yah."

"What's dere not da like?" he quipped, taking three steps back and tucking his cane into his trench to store it away and clasping the jacket shut. Before she could ask what he was doing, the mutant broke into a dead run and launched himself into the fray of moving beams.

Gambit jumped, hopped, rolled, even at one point ran sideways on the wall, in order to reach the other side without breaking a single beam. His hat came loose and tumbled down but he caught it, tipping it back onto his head.

Rogue gave him the grimmest look of unimpressed disinterest she could muster and then kicked off the ground. Gracefully she glided over the tops of the lasers with an easy two foot clearance.

"Now who's showing off, cheri?" he grinned as she landed and she rolled her eyes at him.

The entry hall dropped down several steps into the main gallery, a large open space where artifacts were placed in museum quality display cases. In the center of the room a pedestal held a Mid-18th Century European gold dagger, a couple of sapphires inlaid on the hilt. It looked like it had a similar pressure sensitive trip on the glass as she saw in the Vault.

"Not well secure once yah inside," she walked around the case, "I can think of at least three ways we could crack this."

The thief made an agreeable sound, then said, "Dese are just trinkets, cheri, he knows I'd never waste my time with dem."

She glanced up at his curiously, the dagger having to be work at least a quarter of a million, "Then what we after?"

"He keeps da good stuff locked up in his safe," the Cajun replied simply with a tease to his voice.

"Okay, Gambit, I'll bite," she stood to full height, hands on her hips, "where's tha safe?"

The man smiled, then his eyes darted upwards and she followed his gaze to the raised ceiling. At first she thought the four large boxes which were lowered from the ceiling where part of some kind of art deco theme, fabric panels hanging off them to dampen ambient noise.

Upon closer inspection, the blocks were affixed to heavy duty steel beams, six to a block, and they were just the right size for your average high-end safe. Also, the three dozen moving lasers which shot across to completely block any kind of access via repelling ropes was a bit of a dead giveaway.

"Oh, yeah," she laughed, "he really, really, doesn't like yah."