Wolverine and Magneto found themselves regarded by one bright red eye, one dark. It was difficult to discern who was in control at any given time, that is, until the figure seated before them spoke.

"Is Rogue awright?" Gambit asked.

Sinister answered him: "I imagine she has healed by now. Such a shame, to think our time together was...wasted."

A flicker of fury passed over Gambit's face.

"You force my hand, LeBeau. Shall I inform your comrades of what I have done? With your hands. I had only touched her...in the same places you yourself-."

"Ah," Sinister said, apparently satisfied. "He has taken his leave."

"A momentary victory, parasite," Magnus told him. "You will soon find yourself ejected. Without a host."

"You had best hope not," Sinister replied. "I have any number of failsafes in place, should you attempt to destroy me. I will only resurface elsewhere. At the moment, consider yourselves fortunate. You have my person, and my attention."

"And I have Gambit's permission, to do what it takes to remove you," Wolverine threatened, and claws slid slowly from his knuckles one by one.

Sinister's eyes narrowed. "You degenerate animal. Think to harm me, and I will just as easily shred bits from the boy's psyche."

"I wonder why you have failed to do so," Magneto asked. "Why would you allow him to continue to recite folk songs, dirty limericks, and television commercials, if you had the ability to control him."

"I would leverage him for my freedom. Let us negotiate. For every hour I spend here, I will sacrifice some part of the boy's mind. I sadly will not remove his ability to speak, because I would like him to convey to you the amount of pain he suffers."

Wolverine drove a fist into Sinister's face. Fortunately, it was not the fist with the unleashed claws.

"Never thought I'd thank someone for punching me in de face," Gambit said, his tongue going to his split lip with a wince.

"Is he capable of doing what he's claimed?" Magneto asked.

"I suppose. But he'd have to catch me first," Gambit replied. "Got de jump on me b'fore. Then I broke out of my own vault, fought off my own dragon, and have been runnin' amok since. Genie's out de bottle now."

"Understood about half of that," Wolverine said. "So, an improvement."

Gambit almost smiled, but then it caused his lip to bleed more.

"To answer your previous question," Magneto told him. "Rogue is with the others in the War Room. Discussing how we shall proceed with ridding you of your unwanted guest."

Gambit nodded, his expression one of misery. "I can't imagine how dis could've turned out worse," he said. "Thought my chances were bad when he offered me de deal. Work for him, he'd fix my powers. Instead he tries t'kill my friends, threatens my family. Thought I'd rather have my freedom. Now I don't even have half a brain."

"I could point out you were just using a quarter of it to begin with," Wolverine said.

Gambit gave a soft laugh. "I hope I'm able to stick around long enough so you can keep remindin' me what a dumb-dumb I am."

Gambit was seated on the sleeping platform, much as he had been when he'd first come to the X-Mansion. This time however, he was manacled hand and foot, arms chained to the wall. Feet to the floor.

"You should rest and conserve your strength. You will need it tomorrow," Magneto told Gambit.

Gambit paused, regarded the man nervously. "What's gonna happen tomorrow?" His expression abruptly changed, and he smiled. "Oh, yeah. Hanukkah sameach!"

"I appreciate your sentiment," Magnus said. "And our plans will remain a close secret. Logan?"

"D'you mind sittin' a bit?" Remy asked Logan. "Keeps de monster under de bed, knowing you're here."

Logan nodded, sat on the edge of the cot beside Remy.

"I will rejoin the others," Magnus said. "Finalize our plans." The man departed through the transparent barrier blocking the doorway.

"Think he's comin' 'round to me?" Remy asked, raised an eyebrow.

"Must be the holiday spirit," Logan said, leaning back against the wall with his arms crossed.

Remy likewise leaned back, though it was awkward since his arms were chained behind him. "I don't see how Rogue'll ever forgive me."

"She's a tough kid," Logan said. "Used to fighting demons."

"Seems like an eighteen-year-old should be just starting to figure out her future, not be beaten up by her past."

"You ever notice...she seems like someone older?"

"Yeah. Thought she said. She absorbed your mind, and you're like, what, from de Neolithic period?"

Logan shook his head slightly. "You'd better watch it, bub. I mean, she's not always herself."

Remy said: "Sometimes she talks in a way. I guess you'd call it, 'with gravitas.'"

"Sometimes she's someone else. Literally."

Remy watched the side of Logan's face. "Who?"

"Carol. Carol Danvers. An Avenger."

Remy's expression was startled for a moment before shuttering completely. He stared at the far wall, locked in some inner conflict. Logan thought Sinister's return was imminent. But then Remy said, his voice hollow: "I used t'collect their cards when I was a kid. De ladies' cards were harder t'come by. Had a million Iron Mans. Couldn't trade 'em for anything. Used dem for target practice."

Logan laughed through exhaustion, half-relieved, rubbed a hand over his face and rested his elbows on his knees. "Ms. Marvel," Logan supplied.

Remy considered this for a long time, still wearing that hard, blank expression. "So, de strength, flight, and invulnerability. That's Miz Marvel's. Rogue was—She's the one who..."

Logan nodded.

"She never said."

"Well, kid, seems like for all your flap-jawin' there are several things you might have forgotten to mention. You're married?"

Remy sighed, came back to himself. "Depends on who you ask."

Logan cast a glance over his shoulder at Remy, where he remained slouched against the wall.

"In de eyes of de State of Louisiana, yes. In de eyes of our families. No. In de eyes of God? Yes...since de time we were too young to be doin' de kinda stuff we were doin'."

"How about your eyes, kid?"

Remy hesitated. "Yup."

"And you still fool around with other women?"

"S'right."

Logan shook his head and looked away. "Sometimes you make it hard to like you."

"Only sometimes?"

"Alright, it's not like I haven't made some serious errors in judgement," Logan told him. "But you picked the wrong girl, Cajun."

Remy was silent.

"You're just a kid," Logan continued. "How are you married?"

"It was arranged."

Logan looked at him with incredulity. "This isn't some kind of shotgun situation? Don't tell me you knocked her up?"

Remy shook his head. "Nah. No. But kids were expected t'follow...immediately."

"Do we have to play twenty questions?" Logan complained. "I'd like the whole story before the New Year."

"Grouchy," Remy sulked. "Fine. Fine. Here goes. Had an arranged marriage, since I was seventeen. Me and my best friend, Belle. Her family and my family, they do not get along."

"Then why would-."

"You wanna hear dis story or not?" When he was certain Logan wasn't going to interrupt, he said: "It makes de Hatfield and McCoys look like a tea party. Long time, they've been squabbling. Looked like her family was nearly done chopping mine up to bits, when my father proposed a truce. Me and de daughter of their-leader-would get married, we'd end de fighting. Belle and I agreed, mostly. I might have harbored some...resentment, y'might say. But, I still loved Belle, she put up wit' me, and we were hitched. For a few hours or so. Made it through the ceremony anyway. Then her brother challenged me to a duel. Kinda ruined our honeymoon."

"You're kidding. Why?"

Remy fared him with a pointed look. "Because I married de woman he loved."

"But you just said-her brother...oh."

"Yeah, let de implications of dat sink in," Remy said. "My in-laws are somethin' else."

"I am guessing you won the duel."

"By all accounts I should have lost. The weapon of choice was swords. Not my kinda thing. I did not intend t'kill him, but it happened. Might be my powers were starting to get a little out of whack. My family said it was self-defense. Her family said: he a cheater, off with his head. They outnumbered us, 'bout three to one. Finally, they decided on a good old fashioned shunning. Which everyone agreed was worse than death, which is de only reason Belle's family gave de okay."

"So they kicked you out? Out of the family?"

"Out of de city," Remy answered. "But wait, dere's more."

"Oh, for…"

"Bot' de families answer to dis one-woman. She's like...a patron. So she shows up, says she's owed for me killing her top...bodyguard."

"Why do I get the feeling you're speaking in code."

"I don't want to overwhelm you with crazy details."

"Thanks for that!"

Remy continued: "She says she'll trade what she's owed for de top...uhm. Earner? From my family."

"You."

"No, my brother Henri. I said no. He'd already nearly died b'cause of me. So I volunteered. I picked leaving my wife...to go wit' that other woman. Belle, my wife, was not too happy. Just t'be clear, that's an understatement."

"Yeah, picked up on that. You got anything else regarding this sorry tale?"

"'Bout my wife? No. Dat's about it."

"Sounds like a bum deal, kid," Logan conceded. "But you were going back to your family for Christmas. I take it the shunning was over? What changed?"

"My service t'de patron had ended, several months ago. Was supposed to go back after, debt forgiven. Wasn't sure I wanted to, given what they want—," he stopped and shook his head. Changed his mind about what he was going to say. "But I may or may not have threatened to kill my father. Was kinda nuts at de time. Feel real bad about it. On top of dat, you know. I exploded."

"Am I going to want to visit you in New Orleans? Meet this family of yours?"

"He's just a poor boy from a poor family," Remy sang. "Spare him his life from this monstrosity!"

Logan shook his head. "I don't understand how your mind works."

"Me neither."


Next time: An unexpected visitation.

Random Reference:

Bohemian Rhapsody, Queen