"What..the...hell…?" Wolverine said as the Danger Room doors slid open to permit his opponent.

"So...what do you think?" Gambit asked as he waltzed in. He stopped and performed a slow turn on his back heel, hands poised like a vogue dancer. "Pretty sharp, non?"

"More like Pretty in Pink, " Wolverine retorted, eyeing Gambit's unusual uniform.

"Ooh, finally, a worthy opponent," Gambit said, rubbing his hands together in anticipation, sending forth a flurry of pink-hued sparks. "And I'll have you know, dis ain't pink, it's cerise ."

"I'd have said: Barbie ," Wolverine said.

Gambit laughed at that. "Look, mon frѐre, it coordinates with my power signature!" With that he sent a playing card flying over Wolverine's head where it detonated against the Danger Room's concussive force-resistant shields harmlessly.

Wolverine would not be willing to admit that the two colors were of a similar shade. The thief was dressed in a form-fitted black uniform, a bright "cerise" colored chest piece covered his torso, metallic boots with a metallic half-staff strapped to his left thigh. Bright blocks of color down his arms and legs, pockets, from where he'd drawn one of his playing cards. His unruly hair was partially tamed with a mask.

"Does it have a hand bag to go with it?" Wolverine asked.

Gambit gestured to his ensemble. "This is what those fat cats on Wall Street would describe as a ' Power Suit .'"

"It's powerful bright. Don't you think a thief would be better kitted out in black?"

Gambit waved off the suggestion like an annoying bug. "For one: ain't no one gonna see me coming. And when they see me go, they won't be forgetting in a hurry. For two: just plain black? Bo -ring!"

"Where's your coat? I think you need it," Wolverine held up a hand to shield his eyes from the glare of Gambit's new uniform. "If all else fails, I suppose you could just blind your opponent."

Gambit threw his head back, laughed loudly. "Wolverine, you're a card. I like you a lot. I haven't about busted my gut in years . I will say, when life don't give me anything to laugh about, I can always fall back on laughing at my own expense."

Wolverine allowed himself to grin at the young man. He gave Gambit a clap on the back that sent the kid stumbling.

"Geez, you two," said a voice from up in the control booth. It was Kitty. "Are you guys going to train, or get married?"

"Hey!" Wolverine snapped while Gambit cackled.

"No, no judgement, Logan. I like the budding bromance. It's very positive. Very metro," Kitty quipped.

From the booth, they could also hear Rogue laughing.

"Everyone here is so damn funny!" Wolverine griped. "Let's just get on with it!"

"Yes! Get on with it! " Gambit announced in a British accent. He turned to Wolverine. "Just remember when this is all over, no hard feelings, yeah?"

"Feelin' pretty confident, eh?" Wolverine grinned.

Gambit smiled back in response.

"Okay, Bert and Ernie," Kitty said. "Timer's up. Boy-buddy with the most hits wins."

"What scenario we runnin, kid?" Wolverine asked.

"Spinning platforms!" Kitty declared and the Danger Room began to change shape.

Both Gambit and Wolverine found themselves rising on a circular platform. All around them, various platforms were springing from the Danger Room floor like so many mushrooms. Gambit continued to laugh as if he were on a tiltawhirl. Wolverine found himself grinning back. Annoying, how infectious Gambit's attitude was.

Wolverine might have started a split-second before the timer began. Gambit seemed not to be paying attention, staring up at the platforms as he was. He reacted a moment too late, and as Wolverine dove towards him, he delivered a glancing blow to Gambit's mid-section. Gambit twisted aside, not taking the full brunt of the hit. Wolverine saw his opponent's bright eyes flash, a smile still on his lips even as he whispered out a breath of pain. Gambit shook his head slightly and grinned. Wolverine realized Gambit might have taken the blow on purpose, just to see how hard Wolverine would hit. Gambit twirled away to land on the far side of the slowly rotating platform. He paused a moment, then launched himself at Wolverine, going low. Wolverine was prepared, or so he thought. Then it was just as Storm had described, the kid seemed to move incredibly fast, while Wolverine found himself moving just a fraction slower. His legs were wide-spread to maintain balance on the spinning platform. Suddenly, Gambit was swishing beneath him as if sliding into home plate. He momentarily disappeared off the edge of the platform. When Wolverine turned, it was to see Gambit's booted feet coming back up from beneath the platform to strike him in the chest.

"One-One," Kitty said from the booth.

Wolverine staggered backwards, then leapt up and back to land on the platform above. Now he had the higher ground. He beckoned Gambit onward, fingers of his outstretched hand raising in a "come on, then" gesture. Gambit dashed forward, gripped the handholds on the underside of the platform to once again disappear beneath it. The platform suddenly lurched to the side, Gambit's body weight and momentum causing it to spin faster. He flipped himself onto the platform across from Wolverine, running opposite to the platform's rotation. He was coming at Wolverine fast, a playing card in either hand. Wolverine leapt and landed hard on the opposite side of the platform, which with a rending creak, canted to the side. With a shout of surprise, Gambit was launched from his feet, then fell to hit the platform and he began to slide towards where Wolverine stood. As the thief slid past, Wolverine seized him by the collar and popped him in the mouth. He then released the kid, and he fell from the platform to land on another, which was quickly rising to meet him. Wolverine heard a very satisfying "woof" come from the thief as he landed hard. Not giving up his advantage, Wolverine leapt to try to land on top of Gambit. The man was rolling out of the way, narrowly missing the brunt of Wolverine's considerable weight.

Gambit was back on his feet now, his staff snapped into one piece, telescoping out to its full length. He spun it in a tight arc, Wolverine could hear it snap still in the thief's grip. Gambit feinted, dashed back in the opposite direction, executed a tight pirouette and swung his staff at Wolverine's head. Wolverine heard the staff whisper over his skull. The maneuver was not complete, Gambit had raised it to bring the staff downwards. Wolverine raised his fists, unleashed his claws, caught the staff between them. Ripping his claws apart with a sharp ring of metal on metal, the staff was reduced to two longer pieces and several small bits rained down onto the platform with a clatter.

Gambit actually looked pissed then, looking at the fragment of his broken staff he still held. With an aggravated grunt, he sent it flying end over end in Wolverine's direction. Wolverine ducked, then raised up, only to hear the sound of the staff striking the platform behind him. Too late, the staff had rebounded and was returning to its master to crack Wolverine in the back of the skull.

"Two-two," Kitty said.

Wolverine growled. Gambit leapt over him to gain the advantage of a higher venue, snagging the other half of his staff from the ground as he swished past Wolverine's swinging claws.

Wolverine was hot on his tail, leaping upwards a second after Gambit had landed on the platform. Gambit spun, twirled his broken staff over his head, then brought the sharp pointed end down into the center of the platform. A burst of pink-white energy flowed from the end of the staff to light up the platform. Wolverine leapt straight up, narrowly missing getting his feet taken out from beneath him. Gambit backflipped to the edge of the platform, now the highest point in the Danger Room, and launched himself to fly from the ledge backwards like an Olympic diver. He was plummeting several stories downward, head-first. Wolverine saw him momentarily vanish out of thin air not a moment before hitting the ground. Gambit suddenly reappeared on the ground below in a flash of light, standing upright, though he staggered backwards a pace or two. He looked down at himself, held his hands before him in wonder. "Hey!" he exclaimed. "I actually did it! And my clothes stayed on dis time!" Gambit seemed pleased as punch.

Wolverine leapt, wind whistling past as he fell. He landed on the ground with a force that crumpled the ground beneath him. He let out a small grunt.

"Didn't dat hurt?" Gambit asked, seemingly concerned.

"Yes," Wolverine said and charged. Gambit rushed forward too. Not to fall for this trick a second time, Wolverine made sure to grab Gambit by his chest piece, one hand at his collar and other at his lower abdomen. Wolverine used Gambit's momentum to swing him around. He released him, and the kid went flying backwards into a platform pillar. He hit it sideways, his lanky form momentarily wrapping backwards against the pillar, then fell to his side in a crumpled heap. Gambit did not get up.

"Logan!" Rogue cried a reprimand from the booth.

"Honeymoon must be over," Kitty added.

Now concerned, Wolverine paced forward. Gambit was righting himself, his hand pressed to the floor to boost himself into an upright position. Leaning back against the pillar, his head down and hair falling over his face, Gambit pointed a finger at Logan.

The timer clicked to zero and an alarm sounded. The score: Wolverine: 3, Gambit: 2.

Wolverine stopped in his tracks, and Gambit pointed downward. Wolverine saw a playing card tucked behind his belt buckle. It was glowing softly.

"Bang, you dead," Gambit said, and cocked his thumb and finger as if shooting Wolverine with a gun.

Wolverine's buckle exploded and he flew backwards.

He was picking himself up off the ground when Rogue flew into the room. "Logan, Ah'm gonna beat your butt!" she shouted. "He hardly weighs even half what you do!"

"I'm all right, chère," Gambit told her, as he climbed to his feet. "No harm, no foul."

"Says you!" Wolverine snapped. He pointed at his ruined uniform. "This was after the buzzer!"

"Mistimed de delay," Gambit grinned in a way that told Wolverine he did not mistime anything. "Seems t'me someone might've jumped de gun, yeah? Shouldn't that be an automatic disqualification?"

Kitty had appeared through the wall. "Hm, we'll have to watch the replay," she said.

"Ganging up on me, I see how it goes! Everyone loves the new guy!" Wolverine complained.

Gambit was walking towards him now, laughing again. "A new ensemble in your future, mon ami. Maybe I can help? I see you, a vision in yellow…maybe some blue. Like Beauty and de Beast, rolled inta one," here he swept his hand in the air, and looked into the distance, as if imagining an amazing panorama. " Tale as old as time …"

"I'm going to kick you right into the future, pretty boy! Say, sometime next week?"

"Gotta catch me first, slow poke," Gambit countered. He pulled his mask off, sweaty hair fell into his face. "Hey, it's been awhile since I broke a sweat. Thanks for that!"

"Why don't you hit the showers, sugah?" Rogue hooked a thumb over her shoulder to the locker room entry. "Y'aint feelin' sore, are ya? You hit that pillar pretty hard."

"Sure you can help me out wit' dat, chère," he said, giving her a wink as he passed.

Wolverine saw Rogue's face flush, and not from embarrassment. Her eyes were bright and she might have winked back.

Hunh, Logan thought. He studied Rogue carefully. The doors to the locker rooms opened and closed, and Gambit was gone.

"So…" Logan said, crossing his arms over his chest. "You're gettin' pretty friendly with the Cajun."

Kitty's eyes lit up. Rogue fared her with a look that said: 'Don't start.'

"What's it to ya?" Rogue asked in a blasé tone.

Logan held up his hands defensively. "Nope, nothing. Just sayin'. It's good, you stickin' to him. Make sure he doesn't get himself into any more trouble. You like him, he likes you. For all his dislike of dogs, he's followin' you around like a lovesick puppy."

Rogue's posture relaxed.

"But you hardly know the guy. Don't take him too serious," Logan added. "Seems like a bit of a player."

"Ah can see that for myself," she snipped. "Ah ain't stupid!"

"I didn't say you were. Don't want you to get hurt, is all, darlin'," Wolverine told her warmly.

"Don't you worry about me. Gettin' hurt is better than feelin' nothin' at all!"

"Rogue, don't you ever sell yourself short. You deserve the best, don't forget that. Don't settle for anything less than what you actually want."

"Ah know what Ah want, that's never been clearer to me!" with that, Rogue sashayed out the main door.

Kitty grinned. " Rogue and Gambit sitting in a tree -!"

"Cut it out, half-pint!"

Logan found Remy standing under the spray of one of the showers, looking as though he was about to make love with the showerhead. "De water stays hot! It's a God-given miracle!" he said, his voice echoing.

Logan pulled off his destroyed uniform, tossed it into the bin where all ruined uniforms went to die. He marched into the shower area, pulled the faucet on. "You ever stop talking?" he asked conversationally.

"Nope," Remy said, rubbing his head with a bar of soap. "Not even in my sleep."

Logan eyed him, looking to see if he'd done the kid any significant damage. Other than a scar on his back, he seemed unhurt. "Seems like you can take a beating pretty good," Logan observed.

Remy smiled at him from under the veil of his overlong hair, now plastered to his skull. "That was a beating? Pshaw! Love tap, more like. Rogue was right, it was fun. Pretty mad at you for splittin' up my staff though."

"We can get you a new one," Logan said. "Maybe out of something a little more indestructible."

"Oo, like vibranium?" Remy said, instantly brightening. "I'd like to get my hands on some of dat! Imagine de boom I could make!"

"Maybe not. Bit out of your price range, I'd say."

Remy laughed. "Caviar dreams on a Taco Bell budget!"

Logan shook his head, laughed as well. "Save some of your cash for a haircut, kid."

"Mebbe get an up-do like you?" Remy sauntered back into the locker area.

"Think you're pretty clever, don't you?"

"' I bet you think that's pretty clever, don't you boy...? Flying on your motorcycle...Watching all the ground beneath you drop .'" Vaguely haunting tune, hanging in the echoing space, sung flat in a smoke-stained voice. Remy was standing in front of the mirror now, toweling his head dry.

Logan twisted off the flow from the shower, claimed a towel from near the shower exit.

"You coulda cleaned my clock," Logan told him. "You held back."

Remy watched Logan's reflection in the mirror. "Nah."

"Hank would disagree. Says you're some kind of -."

Remy shook his head. "I don't trust myself with that kind of power. Staring into de abyss of a thousand realities had me comin' back a few cards short of a deck. It's not worth my sanity to kick your keister around th'Danger Room."

"I can see your point."

"Who needs dis?" Remy said quietly to his reflection, touching the scar on his chest. "Some kinda crazy power. For what? What's some no-goodnik thief got to do with dis?"

"I'll tell you what I told Rogue, don't sell yourself short."

"Comes wit' a cost, this. Sanity, humanity, spiritual and emotional well-being."

Logan sat on a bench, waist wrapped in a towel. He considered the kid carefully. "You're smarter than you let on."

"Don't be givin' me any credit. Done some pretty dumb stuff. Probably will do a lot more. Best if I had dis cut outta me before I take out de planet."

"Can't go choppin' out pieces of who you are," Logan said.

"What if dis isn't who I am. What if I was made dis way?" There was something in Remy's voice, something like fear. Logan had some idea about that, about being created rather than just being .

"In that case," Logan announced jocularly, "I think someone missed a step, didn't read the recipe."

Remy gave him the briefest of smiles. "Someone forgot to proof my yeast," he tapped his forehead. "B'fore poppin' me in de oven."

"Magneto might know a thing or two about that kind of power," Logan admitted. "Maybe you ought to bury the hatchet, ask his opinion on the matter."

Remy shook his head. "Y'think maybe de reason he don't care for me might be he knows I could take him on? Not top dog now, is he? Least not in de outrageously powerful mutant department."

"That's not why."

Remy raised an eyebrow, still looking at Logan in the mirror. "You got other thoughts?"

"Think it might have something to do with a certain Mississippi Mauler."

Remy's eyebrows came together in consternation. "You can't be serious. He's...he's-."

Logan held up a precautionary finger. "Don't you dare say 'old.' Seeing as how I've got quite a few years on the rest of you kids."

Remy's mouth pressed into a line. "No ageist, me," he said. "My daddy's about in your same boat. De dating scene amongst centenarians is pretty dire."

Logan laughed dryly.

"Been wit' a woman considerable older than you and my poppa combined. And maybe age is just a number, but let's just say, there's a significant generational gap between my POV and hers ."

Logan waited him out, thinking the thief would fill in the empty space with more words.

"You can sit around wanting things to be how they were, or you can get wit' de times. Go wit' de flow. S'true a person can be young at heart, but I'm sure if you looked up Mag's character study, you wouldn't find "young" or "heart" penned in there. Y'say he's got a thing for Rogue? I don't see it. Does she see it?"

"Don't know," Logan admitted. "Though Magneto's power is significant enough, Rogue's absorption abilities wouldn't affect him. He'd be immune. And he knows it...she might not."

"So does he actually care about her, or is dis an idea of him savin' her for later, like a doll on a glass shelf for him to play wit'?" Remy's tone was hostile.

"What's she to you, Cajun?" Logan asked, reasonably.

Remy opened his mouth, then closed it. He regarded himself in the mirror now. "Don't know," he finally admitted. "Maybe another diversion."

"Seems like you could go home now, whenever you wanted."

"You're probably right," he said. He pushed his hair over his shoulder, squinted at his reflection. "Don't know what I want now, now dat I actually got a choice."

Logan was surprised at his candor. Seemed like if he wasn't in the hot seat, he was perfectly forthcoming. "You gonna put some clothes on, or just keep starin' at your mug in the mirror?"

Remy smiled again. "Mirror mirror, on de wall. Who's de cutest boy of all?"

Logan hit him with a wet towel.

"Enh! You'd better not have dried your junk on dis towel!" he cried and ripped it off his head. With an abrupt change of tone, he asked: "So is there a stylist in town?"

"A what?" Logan asked and pulled on his shorts.

"Like a hairdresser?"

"Do you mean a barber?" Logan asked loudly. He shouted to no one: "What is wrong with kids these days!?"

Next time: Sad chapter, much crying. Had to be done to move this story along. Luckily it's short.

Get on with it! - Monty Python and the Quest for the Holy Grail

Tale as old as time - Disney's Beauty and the Beast

I bet you think that's pretty clever - Radiohead High & Dry