Chapter 20: Is There an Occupation You Haven't Dated?

Rogue leaned up against the wall by the door frame while Gambit set up the fireworks in Bobby's room. Granted the floor was carpet, but Rogue was honestly amazed by just how silent Gambit could be. He didn't even make a noise opening up Bobby's balcony door. Finally, Gambit stepped back out into the hall with Rogue, a long fuse in hand. He shut the door without even a click and Rogue had to bite her bottom lip to keep from giggling. Gambit grinned at her. He touched his finger to the fuse, and backed away down the hall, into Rogue's room which was closer. Gambit closed the door after them.

They waited. Gambit held up his fingers and began lowering them one by one. As soon as the last finger fell:

Fwoosh! Crackle! Bang! Squeal!

"Ahh!"

The hall was soon full with everyone in hearing distance—including Rogue and Gambit—who came out of their rooms to investigated what on earth had happened.

"Bobby? What's going on?" asked Pete, Bobby's next door neighbour.

"Someone let fireworks loose in my room!" Bobby exploded. "And now look! I've got ice everywhere."

Bobby put his hands on his head in frustration and looked at the multiple blocks of ice in his room.

"That's why you have the water proofing, hun," Kitty said with a yawn. "You know, for when you freeze stuff in there."

"Yes, but you're missing the point! Fireworks! In my room!"

"Well don't look at me," Jubilee said. "I can make my own fireworks. I don't need actual fireworks."

"No one's blaming you," Logan said with a dire look in Gambit's direction. "Isn't that right, Squeaky?"

"I didn't hear anyone blame you," Gambit agreed, looking at Bobby.

"Where are the rest of your fireworks?" Logan demanded.

"It was you?" Bobby asked, staring at Gambit.

"I don't have any," Gambit replied cheerfully, knowing perfectly well the rest of the fireworks were secreted in Rogue's room. "Go on, search my room. Be my guest."

"Squeaky, I know it was you," Logan said. "Your scent's in Bobby's room. So unless you and Bobby were in the habit of having a little midnight tryst..."

"Ahh, you've cottoned onto my little secret," Gambit replied dramatically and turned to Bobby with his hands outstretched. "It's true, Bobby. I have feelings for you. I've been sneaking into your room at night and watching you sleep. It turns me on."

Bobby didn't say anything for a moment, then finally pointed his finger and said: "You'd better be joking, because otherwise you're really freaking me out right about now."

The mansion was unusually devoid of estrogen after Storm, Kitty, Jubilee, Tabitha, Angelica and Rogue took all of the female students out for a bra fitting. This particular expedition involved the school bus and a specialty bra store called up in advance so they could arrange extra staff. The only girls still at the mansion were those who were barely aware of being mutants, let alone developing breast and Betsy had been unwillingly put in charge of them—specifically for the purpose of talking to them about periods and making sure they knew where the feminine hygiene products were and how to use them when the time came.

Suffice to say there was a large male population in the rec room, and a surprising number of them were watching a fashion show on TV.

"Why are you watching a fashion show?" Logan asked as he approached the group.

"Oooh! Was that a nipple?" Rictor exclaimed.

"Does that answer your question, mon ami?" Gambit inquired, glancing up at Logan from where he sat on the arm of the lounge.

Logan muttered something about soft-core porn.

"Hey, I know her," Gambit said abruptly. "That's Paula."

"Another ex-girlfriend of yours?"

"Oui. Ooh I know her too."

"Are we sure this is a good idea?" Logan asked. "Watching a fashion show with you is likely to turn into a game of 'pick who Squeaky has slept with'."

"Have you had sex with a lot of models?" asked Cypher.

"Oui," Gambit replied tolerantly.

"How many?"

"He's lost count," Logan put in before Gambit could answer.

"Whoa cool."

"That's not cool," Gambit corrected. "That just makes me a man-slut."

Snickering followed that comment.

"Seriously, mes amis," Gambit went on. "A few years back, an ex-girlfriend called me up and said she'd been infected with HIV. I got a test and it came out clean but, if it had been positive? It had been two years since I last slept with her. I couldn't even guess how many women I may have potentially infected in that time, let alone been able to contact them all and advise them to get tested. Quite frankly, trying to contact anyone I had a one night stand with would have been a lost cause all by itself, and what about them? What if they had contracted it too and didn't know? How many people could they have infected before they found out? You can go years without seeing any symptoms of HIV. I took to getting tested regularly after that and if any of you are going to try the womaniser lifestyle, you'll do the same and you'll make sure you know how to contact your lovers from that period in case the worst should happen."

Logan broke the silence that followed with a smart remark: "You're actually exchanging names now, Squeaky? That's a surprise."

"Not all of us are immune to disease like you are, Logan. Besides, I've taken a preference to relationships over one nights stands. They're more fun—well, depending on the femme—and less likely to blur into nameless faces."

"I'm surprised that worries you."

"I've been one night standing for two decades, mon ami. It gets boring after awhile. I'm surprised you didn't realise that yourself. Or maybe it's just because you have such a huge gap in your memory it doesn't mean anything to you," Gambit paused and hesitated, well aware of the audience paying very close attention to their conversation, and finally added what he'd been thinking for years but never before admitted aloud: "Besides, I've tasted love once or twice over the years. I'd give up sleeping around in an instant if I could just have the real thing."

A few days later, Rogue and Gambit were having a massage session before one of their many movie nights. Logan often grumbled about how he didn't like Rogue being in his room for so long, and he didn't see why they couldn't invite other people to their movie nights. Still on his many patrols past Gambit's room on such nights, he never noticed any unusually high hormone levels and Rogue always told him when they were going to have an all-night marathon, otherwise she was always back in her own room by midnight. So Logan tried not to worry too much.

Gambit sat on the edge of the bed with his back turned to Rogue while she removed her shirt and made herself comfortable for her massage.

"Okay," Rogue said.

Gambit turned around, and grinned with a snicker as his eyes fell on the back of her bra.

"What?" Rogue asked.

"This one's new, chère," he teased her. "I like the strawberries."

"Keep your comments to yourself and get to work, Swamp Rat."

Gambit chuckled and ran his finger down her spine, leaned over and unclipped the back of her bra—with his teeth. Rogue's eyes went wide at the unfamiliar sensation.

"What did you just do?" she asked frantically.

"I undid your bra chère," Gambit replied nonchalantly as he began giving her the massage.

"That much I figured."

"With my teeth."

"... Why?"

"Just to see if I still could. Besides, those strawberries looked mighty tempting."

"They're not edible, stupid."

"Hmm, I thought they tasted funny."

Rogue giggled.

"You often in the habit of removing clothing with your mouth?" she asked after a couple of minutes.

"Why? Interested?"

"Oh hell, can't I just a simple question without you taking it as offer? Sheesh."

"Désolé, ma chère, I couldn't help myself."

"Evidently," Rogue said disgustedly.

Gambit chuckled.

"Oui," he answered her. "Bras, zippers and some buttons."

"Buttons?"

"I like button-up blouses and bras that hook up from the front," Gambit said wickedly.

"I just don't even want to know," Rogue sighed. "I'm sorry I asked, actually."

"Look! No hands!" he joked.

Rogue snickered despite herself.

"And then," Gambit went on merrily. "There's always edible undies."

"...I did not just hear you say that."

"Not really my thing, but there were a couple—"

"Don't want to know. Really don't want to know!"

"You're the one who asked about me taking off clothes with my mouth, chère."

"Yeah taking off, not eating off. Eww. That's just gross."

"I can't wait to meet your future husband," he teased her. "I'm going to put so many naughty ideas in his head."

"It takes two to tango," Rogue retorted hotly.

"You know," Gambit said thoughtfully. "I never did learn how to tango, although personally, I think the rumba is sexier. You and I should take dancing lessons."

"Don't I have enough to do?"

"Aww, it'll be fun. And we can tell everyone it's part of your therapy."

"How is it part of my therapy?"

"Touching," Gambit replied simply.

Rogue was silent for a long moment.

"You know," she said softly. "I always wanted to learn."

"Great. I'll organise the lessons and you can talk to Emma and see if she can't lighten some of your other therapy sessions or exchange it or something."

"Okay. Sounds like a plan."

There was a companionable silence for a moment, then Gambit said: "I dated a ballroom dancer once. She taught me to mambo."

"Is there an occupation you haven't dated?" Rogue asked disgustedly.

"Gigolo."

Gambit looked up from his desk at the knock on his door. Fourteen-going-on-fifteen year old, Monet St. Croix, one of the few students who could afford her own wardrobe—her father was an ambassador or something—was leaning against the door frame in a seductive pose she probably picked up from a movie.

"Bonjour Monet," he said. "What can I do for you?"

"Actually," Monet replied, stepping inside the classroom and tucking a lock of black hair behind her ear. "I was wondering if maybe you'd go out with me sometime?"

"Uhh... Monet," Gambit said awkwardly. "I'm your French teacher."

"I know."

"I'm not allowed to date students."

"So, I'll drop the class," Monet dismissed as she sauntered over. "Then you won't be my teacher any more."

"Well, that's sneaky I'll grant you, but I'm still going to have to say no, petite," Gambit said firmly and ignored the way her dark brown eyes narrowed and glared at him at that last word. "Doesn't change the fact I'm still a quarter of a century older than you."

"That doesn't bother me," Monet replied confidently.

"It bothers me."

"It's just a number. We look the same age. In fact, legally we are the same age—"

"It doesn't matter what spin you put on it, petite," Gambit interrupted. "Je suis désolé, but I'm not interested. Kudos for working up the nerve to ask me, though. I know that can be a difficult thing to do."

Monet pressed her lips together tightly in what Gambit recognised as a determined attempt not to cry.

"You're too young for an experienced boyfriend anyway," he added softly. "You should find someone you can share new experiences with, instead of being taken along for a ride. Now, I'm afraid I really have to get back to work. I'll see you in class tomorrow."

Gambit looked back down at the desk, allowing Monet the ability to leave without him seeing her cry. As soon as he heard her leave, Gambit picked up his phone and dialled.

"Remy? I'm kinda busy at the moment," Rogue said, panting a little when she picked up the call.

"Désolé, ma chère," Gambit replied quietly. "I need you to do me a favour when you have a moment, find Monet and make sure she's okay."

"Why? What happened?"

Gambit coughed a little.

"Uhh," he said uncomfortably. "She asked me out."

There was silence on the other end.

"Roguey?" Gambit queried.

"She asked you out?" Rogue repeated, a mix of amusement and disbelief in her voice.

"Oui and she looked upset after I rejected her. As most people would. I'm not really sure if I handled it the best way, but then I'm not in the habit of rejecting underage girls."

"Or any woman for that matter, I'd imagine," she teased him.

"Rogue—"

"Yeah yeah, I'll check in on her."

"Merci."

At first when Rogue found Monet she thought things were okay, that Monet had found some solace in her classmates. However, when she approached close enough to overhear the conversation—and the laughter—Rogue realised quite the opposite was happening.

"I told you so," Amara said smugly.

"Shut up, Amara," Monet snapped.

"There you were, gloating about how you were going to snag Gambit and he turned you down flat. Sucked in."

"Tell me," Rogue interrupted. "How many of you have ever asked a boy out before?"

Silence followed as the group—bar Monet—looked up guiltily.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. Now, unless you have something constructive to say, I'd suggest you leave."

The silence continued as the girls stood and walked away. Monet still had her head down as Rogue sat down next to her.

"Are the rumours true?" Monet asked bitterly once they were gone. "That you and Gambit are—"

"No, and I'm getting a little tired of hearing them," Rogue replied firmly. "Look, Monet, you did a very brave thing today."

Monet snorted.

"No, you did. Seriously. I've never had the guts to ask a guy out before," Rogue said. "Look sugar, rejection happens. At least now you know, and you can move on."

"But... but I don't want to. I really like him, Rogue. I only joined his class so I could be with him. I already know French."

"Very crafty," Rogue replied.

"We would have been perfect together," Monet said with a mournful sigh.

Rogue fought very, very hard to keep the smile from her face, and hoped she was nothing like this when she was that age—the first time.

"Come on," Rogue said, standing up once she felt she could trust her voice not to give away her amusement. "Do you like ice cream?"

"Yeah..."

"Well, good thing for you, I'm a teacher, so I can raid the ice cream whenever I want. Ice cream is the tried and true way us girls deal with this kinda stuff."

Monet giggled and followed Rogue to the kitchen.

Gambit opted to skip dinner in the dining hall that night, so it wasn't until later that evening that Rogue finally located him in the kitchen with Logan, Storm and beer. A big, silly grin plastered itself on her face as she practically skipped over to Gambit, her hands clasped behind her back. Gambit looked up, noted the gleeful expression on her face, groaned and took another swig of his beer as he looked away.

"Hi lover-boy," Rogue said cheerfully.

Gambit leaned on his elbows and rubbed the bridge of his nose, looking down at the bench.

"Did I make a mistake in asking you?" he asked.

"Asking her what?" Logan asked suspiciously.

"I only joined his class so that I could be with him," Rogue quoted, putting on a love-struck girly voice and batting her eyelids. "We would have been perfect together."

"What's this?" asked Storm.

"Monet asked Remy out," Rogue said delightedly. "Because he's all so cute and dreamy."

"She did what now?" Logan practically growled.

"Oh, he turned her down of course," Rogue said, still grinning from ear to ear as she pulled up a stool. "And she was just so heart-broken about it too. Okay, I know I probably shouldn't be laughing about it, but the way she carried on like it was the end of the world she got rejected and... I really hope I was never like that as a kid, geez. By the way Storm, Monet may decide to drop French."

"Ahh," Storm said. "Thanks for the notice."

"Okay, Squeaky—" Logan began.

"You know, mon ami, my voice has been settled for a while now," Gambit interrupted.

"—What did you do to Monet?"

"I turned her down?" Gambit replied, looking at Logan curiously.

"No, what did you do to make her think that asking you out was a good idea?"

"Nothing! What, you think I have control over my sexual magnetism? Désolé, M'sieur Claws, but I didn't intentionally do anything to Monet to attract her...interest."

"Logan, students have been getting crushes on their teachers for as long as there have been teachers," Storm pointed out calmly. "Isn't that right, Rogue?"

"Absolutely," Rogue said batting her eyelids at Logan. "I used to have a crush on you."

"Not the same thing," Logan grumbled. "I never led you on and made you think anything was possible."

"I never led Monet on," Gambit said firmly, glaring at Logan. "You think we'd even be having this conversation if I had?"

"How is Monet, anyway?" asked Storm.

"Oh she'll be fine," Rogue replied merrily. "Upset at being rejected, and getting teased by her friends didn't help—apparently she'd made the mistake of bragging that she was going to go out with Remy before she even asked him—but she'll get over it."

"Well, there's confidence for you," Storm said wryly.

"Yeah," Rogue grinned. "Okay, I'm sorry, but I have to do this just once: Remy and Monet sitting in a tree. N—"

"Rogue!" Gambit objected.

Logan snickered and Rogue beamed at Gambit.

"You don't like my little song, lover-boy?" she asked innocently.

Gambit gave her a long look, then a smile quirked at his lips.

"Actually," he said slyly. "I like mine better: Rogue and Logan sitting in a tree. F U C—"

"Hey!" Rogue objected, clamping her hand over his mouth.

Logan growled and Storm rolled her eyes with a sigh. Gambit smirked at Rogue with his eyes and then licked her hand with as much saliva as he could muster.

"Eww!" Rogue objected, removing her hand and wiping it on Gambit's shoulder. "You're disgusting."

"Aww, you wound me chère."

"I'll do more than wound you in a minute."

"Oooh, promise? Will you spank me too?"

"If you want a spanking, Squeaky," Logan said dangerously. "I'd be happy to give you one. You wouldn't believe how heavy all that adamanitum makes my hand."

"Really, Logan? Wow, I had no idea you felt that way," Gambit replied. "Hey, Stormy, did you know Logan batted for both teams? You know, if you're lucky you might be able to get a threesome out of this. Not with me though. I don't do guys. But y'know, if you and Emma ever wanted to have a bit of fun... Or maybe you and Betsy. I'd do Betsy."

"Ha, you've probably found some modelling pictures of her and jacked off to them already," Logan said. "How have you and your hand gotten acquainted this past year? I bet your relationship is stronger than it's ever been."

"Actually," Gambit said, smirking slyly at Rogue. "I have a photo of Rogue in a very tiny little bikini that works pretty well."

The look of sheer horror on Rogue's face was worth every bruise Logan's admantium-boned hand left on his behind.

AN: Just so no one makes the mistake of taking Remy at his word, no he doesn't really do that. He was just after a reaction.

Monet and Rictor are comic-canon.