Chapter 21

Scott rolled the dice and moved his piece forward six places, landing on St. James Place.  He groaned.  Not again.

"Pay up, mister."  Bobby stuck out his hand, grinning.

Scott counted out the appropriate rent.  "This is the third time, Bobby."

"Well, if you'd quit rolling doubles and landing yourself in jail, you wouldn't have this problem."  Jean eyed him slyly.

"Tell me you haven't been telekinetically controlling the dice," Scott said with a laugh.

Jean put a hand to her breast in mock surprise.  "Who, me?"  Then she smiled.  "Of course not.  Bishop, it's your turn."

Bishop made his role and landed on Water Works.

"Oooh.  Buy it, Bish!"  Bobby patted the giant man on the shoulder.

"What?  Water Works?  Don't waste your money."

Bishop glanced at Scott.  "Why not?"

"It's a waste."

"Are you kidding?"  Bobby leaned conspiratorially toward Bishop and whispered something.  Bishop betrayed no reaction except a small flicker of one eyebrow.

"I do not think I will buy the Water Works," he said after a moment.

"Hey!" 

At Bobby's expression of outrage, Jean burst out laughing.  After a bit, Bobby subsided and picked up the dice.  His role landed him on Kentucky.

"Buy it," he said immediately, and counted out the last of his hundreds.  He gave them to Bishop, who in return held out his other hand.  The square white card with its red label materialized in his fingers. He handed it to Bobby.

The smooth sleight of hand wasn't lost on Scott.  "I see Gambit's been teaching you card tricks," he commented.

Bishop lowered his gaze.  "When I was a kid."  There was a thoughtful quality to the statement Scott hadn't heard before.  He wondered how recent events had affected Bishop's opinion of the man.

Bobby threw his hands up.  "Geez, can't anybody have a conversation without talking about him?"

"What's wrong, Bobby?"  Jean picked up the dice.

Scott could tell Bobby was angry by the set of his jaw.  "Nothing's wrong.  I'm just sick and tired of talking about Gambit."

Scott shrugged.  "There's been a lot to talk about."  He had tried to keep his own opinions quiet for the most part.  It was his place as team leader to help everyone work together.  He had been doing his best to minimize the negative reactions to Gambit's past, which meant that he had to keep his own negative opinions to himself.  Plus, keeping his mouth shut meant he didn't have to argue with Jean's adamant support for the young man.

Bobby wasn't ready to give up the topic.  "If you ask me, there's nothing to talk about.  We should have just tossed him out on his butt and good riddance."

Scott sighed to himself.  Not again.  He could feel Jean's anger growing through their mind link.  The fur was going to be flying in a few minutes if he didn't do something to stop it.

"That's not an option, and you know it," he said calmly.  "Gambit is staying.  Complaining about it isn't going to change anything."

The stubborn set of Bobby's jaw didn't change.  Bishop looked from him to Scott and back again.  His expression was closed, unreadable as always.  Then, without warning, he reached across the table and grabbed the front of Bobby's shirt, pulling him close, until their faces were only inches apart.

"Do you know why Gambit let the Professor scan his mind?" Bishop's voice was a menacing snarl.

"Huh?  Uh, well, of course."  Bobby stumbled after a reply.  Bishop stared at him with cold intensity.  "He, uh, he wanted to know who the traitor was."

"Indeed." The single word was ice cold.  Scott held his breath.  Bishop had said absolutely nothing about his feelings since learning the truth about Gambit and the X-traitor.  He had the feeling that was about to change.

"In other words," Bishop continued, "he risked everything he had-- us, Rogue, even his sanity-- to find out who killed the X-Men.  All of that, just to save your pitiful hide.  And all you can do is complain!"  He released Bobby abruptly, and sent him sprawling back in his chair.  He straightened and stared down at the stunned mutant.

"Maybe you should try showing a little gratitude instead."  Bishop turned on his heel and left. They could hear his heavy footsteps diminishing as he moved away from the boathouse.  Scott and Jean stared at each other, speechless.

After a long pause, Scott told Jean, Maybe I should go talk to him.

She smiled and nodded fractionally.  I'll make sure Bobby stays out of trouble.  There was just a hint humor in her mental voice.  She seemed inordinately pleased by Bishop's reaction.

Scott rose from the table.  Bobby watched him, but for once was without comment.  As he was closing the front door behind him, he heard Jean say, "Bishop is just full of surprises, isn't he?" and wondered if leaving the two of them together was a wise idea.

#

Scott had to resort to using Cerebro to find Bishop.  He had gone to Storm's attic loft and now stood amid the rampant greenery, staring at nothing.  Or so Scott guessed.  Otherwise, he was staring at the Wandering Jew that tumbled out of its pot on the stand directly before him.  Scott didn't think Bishop was the kind to have much interest in plants.  The only reason Scott recognized the purple-green leaves was because Jean had been trying to cultivate some cuttings that Storm had given her, and every morning, he had to move it to get to the coffee.

"Are you all right, Bishop?" he asked.

Bishop turned his head a fraction, acknowledging Scott's presence.  "I... apologize for my outburst.  It was uncalled for."

Scott shrugged.  "There's no reason to apologize.  I'll admit I was a bit surprised, though."

Bishop was silent for several long moments.  He took one of the Wandering Jew's leaves between his thumb and forefinger, examining it.  The fleshy leaf seemed frail in his giant hand.

"I hated him," he said quietly.

"Gambit?"  Scott tried to make his voice encouraging.  Bishop kept his emotions so thoroughly repressed there was no telling how much he would be willing to say.  Scott could see the conflict inside Bishop and knew how much it must be eating at him.  He needed some kind of release-- someone to talk to.  He briefly wished Storm were there, but squashed the thought.  It was his responsibility to take care of his team, and that meant more than just seeing to their physical safety.

Bishop nodded in response to the question.  "As long as I can remember.  It wasn't just about the traitor-- I didn't suspect him of that until just before I came here."  Bishop paused.  "He was always so cold.  I never really believed he cared about us."

"And now you think differently?"  Scott heard the catch in his own voice.  Bishop's feelings fell too close to those that Cable had once expressed for the father who had abandoned him.  They'd come to an understanding eventually, but that didn't keep the memories from being painful.

Bishop turned to face Scott.  "No.  He raised me to be a tool-- to send here so the X-Men could be saved.  He cared about you..." His gaze fell.  "...not me."

Scott wished desperately that he could do something to ease the other man's pain.  "I'm sorry," was all he could think of to say.

"It's not important."  Bishop hooked his thumbs in his belt.  The vulnerability that had been there so briefly was vanishing.  "Gambit has already proved that he is willing to sacrifice anything for the X-Men.  Raising me and sending me here is just a part of that."

"That doesn't make it hurt any less."

Bishop cocked his head as if torn between agreeing with and denying Scott's assessment.  "No it doesn't.  And I do not think I will ever forgive him completely for using me."  Then his tone lightened a fraction. "But I have learned respect.  I might have made the same choices."

Scott didn't have a response.  Respect for Gambit wasn't something he had even considered.  Now the concept haunted him.  He understood suddenly what Jean had been trying to explain to him for the past few days.

He put a hand on Bishop's shoulder.  "Are you going to be all right?"

Bishop nodded.  "I will manage."

Scott left him to his thoughts.  He had some thinking of his own to do, too.  As he descended the stairs, he couldn't help but wonder if he shouldn't plan to spend some serious down-time at Harry's in the very near future.

#

"Bishop is just full of surprises, isn't he?"  Jean rested chin on hand and watched Bobby across the table.  She hoped she didn't sound too smug, but it had been a delight to see Bishop, of all people, telling Bobby to stick a sock in it.  His bias against Remy had been wearing thin on her.

Bobby scowled.  "Save the lecture, Phoenix.  I don't want to hear it."

Jean just raised an eyebrow.  She was prodding him and she knew it, but it was time to air a few things.  So, "What lecture?" she asked.

"The 'It isn't Gambit's fault because he lived through hell as a kid' lecture.  I'm sorry, Jean, but I just don't buy it.  He's as responsible for what he's done as the rest of us."

Jean considered that.  "He is responsible, yes.  But that doesn't mean there isn't room for compassion.  Do you really think that punishing him would make things better?  For anyone?"

"It's what he deserves."  Bobby sat up abruptly and pointed a finger at Jean.  "Someday Gambit's got to learn that there are consequences to the things he does.  He can't just sail through life without paying for his mistakes.  So, yeah, I do think punishing him would do some good."

Jean had to stop and think.  Bobby had hit too close to her own private worry.  Remy really did do a lot of things without seeing their consequences.  But her soul rebelled at the idea of causing him any more pain.  She was still trying to put her thoughts together, even as she voiced them.

"Remy has been hurt too often and too deeply, Bobby.  He expects it.  Punishment of any kind, deserved or not, wouldn't phase him.  Kindness and trust are the things that will have an impact on him."  She toyed with a lock of her hair, twisting it around one finger.  "What he deserves isn't what will help him.  And to be honest, I'm not all that certain he really deserves any more than has already happened to him."

"I don't think that lady agent would agree with you."

"Bobby!"

"Hey, don't come down on me just because I don't like the guy.  I've always thought he was a creep."  He shrugged.  "Turns out I was right."

Jean stared at him in dismay.  "Didn't you hear anything Bishop said?" she asked.

Bobby was suddenly uncomfortable.  "Yeah.  Sure."

Jean's eyes narrowed.  "You really can't stand the thought that there might be something... worthwhile... in Remy, can you?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that you're jealous, Bobby."  The words came out so matter-of-fact even Jean was surprised.

"Jealous!" Bobby laughed.  "Of what?"

"Of Gambit."

"Gambit!  That's absurd, Jean."

"Is it?"

"Yes."  Bobby crossed his arms.  "What in the world do I have to be jealous about?"

Jean considered him as she spoke, wondering if he was aware of what she, and others, had seen in him.  "Remy is smooth and charming, reckless, and a lot more wild than tame.  He takes chances you would never dream of taking.  I think you wish you had some of that wildness--"

"What for?"

"Because if you did, you might have developed your mutant power long before now.  And because maybe Rogue would have noticed you."  The moment she said it, Jean knew she had gone too far.  Bobby's face drained of color. The temperature in the room  plummeted.

"I'm sorry, Bobby.  That was completely out of line."  Jean reached out to take his hand, but he shook her off.

"Yeah.  It was."  He stood and walked to the door.  He paused there for a moment as if debating whether to say something, but he left without saying anything.

Jean stared at the door for a long time, then closed her eyes and laid her forehead against the tabletop.  How could one person so completely upset all of their lives?