Disclaimer: Marvel owns all. (I've just invited them over to my house to play.)
A/N: Prompt for Romy: Gambit meets Rogue and Domino at the Brotherhood base in Wolverine and the X-Men. 20-minute time limit. Set in cartoonverse after Thieves' Gambit but before Battle Lines.
Encounter
Gambit lurked in the shadows of the partially destroyed high-rise apartment building. It's luxury and opulence now bore the marks of plasma burns, soggy carpets, and stale, musty air. The Brotherhood had been using the few 'livable' spaces as a base of operations for months. Despite the squalid conditions, the squatters had been left undisturbed since half the building was structurally unsound. Unfortunately, the rightful owners couldn't bring it down without damaging some historical buildings surrounding it. Instead, a crane stood silent sentry to what remained: too unsteady to be repaired, too intact to be demolished.
'Stuck between a rock and a hard place.' A wry grin quirked Gambit's lips.
He'd been there before. Can't go forward, can't go back. Not unlike the position he was about to place himself with this drop off. Sybil Zane had contracted him for one job, Wolverine had screwed him over on it, and now Magneto was sticking his fingers in the roux to stir it too. As soon as he met up with Quicksilver to hand over the package, Gambit would be in deep with no less than five factions, each with their own (and sometimes conflicting) agendas.
'Ah, well, been in tighter situations befo', non?' A twinkle lit his dark eyes as he rounded the corner where Quicksilver had indicated the drop should occur.
Inside the makeshift command center, Gambit found one of the Brotherhood's wayward progeny rifling through a filling cabinet. However, the young woman who was quickly scanning folders before moving to the next was definitely not the son who had fallen out of Magneto's favor. Instead, it was one of Xavier's former foundlings, Rogue. While they had yet to directly cross paths, Gambit knew enough about her by reputation alone. He also couldn't resist the temptation to startle the former X-Man, especially considering she was obviously into business that was none of her own.
Leaning casually against the doorframe, he observed her sloppy efforts at subterfuge for a few moments before smoothly making his presence known. "Look what de chat dragged in."
As expected, Rogue nearly jumped out of that skin he had heard was so deadly. Skin that was just begging for him to steal a caress. As a master thief, the challenge to do so without ending up unconscious like everyone else was more than enticing.
"Cheese and grits!" She shoved the folder she was holding in the drawer before slamming it shut. "Ya scared the ever-living sugar honey iced tea outta me!"
Gambit gave her a winsome smile as he watched her flounder. After all, he found her alternative to swearing rather cute and refreshing. Not to mention, it had been an age since he'd been back home to hear similar brass. The woman was attractive, smart-mouthed, and stimulating. In short, she was his favorite type.
"Maybe next time, you think twice 'bout going through other people's things, non?" Gambit drawled.
He pushed off the doorframe and stepped further into the room, though kept a healthy distance between them. While he was confident that he could pull off an unharmed touch to her skin, he didn't want to test that theory in the event Rogue unexpectedly felt the need to use her mutation. The last thing he needed was to be laid out on the floor in the Brotherhood encampment.
Rogue crossed her arms over her chest, easily shutting down his suggestion with that Southern sass. "How would you know if it's mine or not? It ain't like I've ever seen you around here before."
As Gambit opened his mouth to introduce himself, Domino managed to get the drop on him and beat him to the chase. "His name is Gambit, he's a no-good, two-timing thief for hire, and he's not staying."
"Ah Dom, chére, you always do know how t' make an homme feel welcome." The charming smirk he had used on Rogue took a hard edge as he split his focus. He turned so the two lethal ladies were on his sides rather than have either at his back.
"Quicksilver stepped out, but he'll be back any minute." Domino supplied, ignoring Gambit's caustic remark. "You can wait on the couch."
From where they were standing in the command center, Gambit could see what the Brotherhood considered the living area. In the time he'd snuck into the small room, Blob had taken up residence on the only piece of furniture that could have once been considered a couch. His corpulent form sprawled on top of it, surrounded by about twenty fried chicken buckets, five 2-liter bottles of soda, and what looked like the remnants of a chocolate cake. Seriously, Gambit had barely been there a few minutes. How could Blob have gathered all that food and still had time to eat half a cake?
It was a feat of strength for the Cajun to keep his face neutral instead of gagging as he waved away the offer. "Passerai, merci."
"Good. Now you can't be offended when I kick you out and tell you to wait in the hall." Domino answered.
Gambit swore softly under his breath when he realized she had set him up to decline the only offer of 'hopsitality' he would get from the Brotherhood. Without waiting for his response or to see if he followed her, Domino walked out of the room. Behind them both, Rogue had been strangely quiet, as if she was trying to avoid detection.
Domino was nearly out of the room when she threw over her shoulder, "You too, Rogue. Quicksilver won't be happy if he finds you in there."
"Quicksilver can bite my-" She started to respond, but Domino interrupted. "Now, Rogue!"
A genuine smile graced Gambit's face as he heard a continuously muttered string of Southern colloquialisms. He'd been living in the North long enough for the cold, windy winters to seep into his bones. Rogue's Mississippi mud mouth warmed his soul and brought back fond memories of humid, sunny summers.
"It seems as if our acquaintance has been cut short. Perhaps we may continue this another night." Gambit closed the distance between them, reaching for her gloved hand to part with a gentle kiss.
"I wouldn't bet on it." Rogue jerked away and stormed out the door, irritated both at being interrupted and his attempt to charm her.
Gambit lingered in the room, watching the fellow Southerner stomp off. When he was sure she was out of ear shot, he added, "Chérie, where you're concerned, I'll take de odds."
(X)
Sugar Honey Iced Tea – (Southernism) a colorful expansion of an acronym used in place of a particular sh swear
Passerai, merci – (French) I'll pass, thank you.