Author's Note**
Hmmm, now we're getting into serious dramatic territory here. We're talking tremendous battle sequences, betrayal, lust, hell it's Star Wars 2 minus the big budget and the crappy writing. Well, maybe not this chapter . . . but eventually.
Meanwhile the X-men and their present company were cooped up in the X-Jet, flying soundlessly over the swirling waters of the Atlantic Ocean. Tensions between several different members of the collective group made the space seem even more crowded than it already was. Cyclops was having a really, really hard time getting over the fact that Avalanche and his psycho buddy had torched his clothes. Especially since Logan had hauled him out back and beaten him until he had cried like a baby the night before. Now granted that hadn't taken very much effort since Cyclops often cried while watching those commercials about adopting a child in Africa. Jean tried to coax him out of his grouchy mood but she could only take so much of his whining and eventually gave up and went to sleep.
Avalanche wasn't exactly enjoying the spoils of his victory against his rival though. He was far too busy burning holes in the back of Kitty's head with his eyes. He and Pyro were sitting behind Shadowcat and her new metal skinned love interest Colossus. Since they had been paired together the two had been pretty much inseparable. At the sound of her giggling at another one of the Russian's dumb jokes, Avalanche felt his left eye begin to tic. What the hell did she see in that guy anyway? Sure he had bulging muscles but he could barely speak English. Well fine, forget her. She could run off with whoever she wanted to. He sure as hell didn't care. Folding his arms across his chest, he glared out the window, trying to convince himself of that one important fact.
But the worst of the tension had settled near the back of the high tech jet, just over the heads of the two members of the miss-matched group that had the most in common. From their Southern roots to the dark secrets that each carried buried within their souls, they were more alike than either one of them would have ever admitted. Gambit sat on the inside, his long legs cramped, and stared out the window much in the same way Avalanche was. For the first time in all his young life, his heart hurt, a dull ache that increased the longer he was around her. He could smell her dark perfume; why the hell did she have to wear perfume on a mission? But then he wasn't sure if she was wearing it or if he was just remembering it. Every time her arm brushed his he had to force himself to keep from jerking. What was worse was that there was no escape from what he was feeling. His cards didn't even interest him anymore. There was only her, and the fact that he couldn't have her made her all the more alluring. But somehow he knew that even if he had her, the feeling would always be there. A heavy tugging on his soul.
Rogue wasn't faring much better. Sitting next to him was a brutal reminder of all the simple pleasures in life that she had to do without. Running her fingers along someone's cheek, feeling someone do the same. She couldn't even pet a fucking dog for Christ sake, let alone another human being. A human being she found she desperately wanted to touch. Squeezing her eyes shut, she wrapped her hands around the mug that had at one point held water in it. It was empty now. If she thought about it, she could bring back the faint taste of the Cajun. One second hadn't been nearly long enough. Her fingers began to tingle strongly and when she opened her eyes, she saw that her mug was glowing brightly in the same way she had seen his cards do.
"Uh . . . Gambit?" she asked quietly, staring at the mug with widened eyes. His gaze remained fixed out the window.
"Wha'?"
"How do yah turn this thing off?"
That got him to turn his head and when he caught sight of the charged mug he lifted his red eyes to hers. Curiosity swam in them. Without looking away, he reached one hand over and placed it on top of hers. She could feel him drain the energy out of the object. Once it was empty, he left his hands where they were and the two stared at each other for a long moment, each trying to read what the other was trying to keep hidden. Then Rogue's eyes slid away and Gambit removed the mug from her limp fingers, just to be safe.
"So. . . Rogue," he began, using her name for the first time, something that did not go unnoticed by her, "you took de power wit'out takin' de instructional manual, oui?"
Swallowing, she forced herself to look over at him. He was watching her with a mixture of curiosity and hurt on his face. "Ah didn't touch ya long enough to git more'n one memory or so," she explained, feeling as if her throat were raw. His eyes narrowed shrewdly at that bit of information.
"An' wha' memory would dat be?"
Because it seemed to be important for him to know, Rogue filtered through her mind for it. It didn't take very long; he'd been the first person she had absorbed since the Professor had wiped all the other memories out. She brought the single memory to the front of her brain and focused on it.
"It's a lahke . . . no, a rivah. Yah go there when it's dark, when the watah jus' creeps along and there ain't another sound in the world." She brought her eyes back to his. "Where is that place?"
Gambit was quiet for a moment before he answered, almost reluctantly. "Near de delta. Gambit go dere sometimes when life be too Northern (fast) fer his likin'."
Leaning her head back against the seat, Rogue was reminded of home. How long had it been since she had come to Bayville? Couple years now. She missed the hot, damp air full of the muddy smells of the Mississippi and she missed hearing people talk like they were breathing in molasses.
"Ah used to sit along the shore of the rivah and watch it trudge along. Not mattah what was goin' on in mah life, it was always movin' on."
"Rien arrête le Mississippi." (Nothing stops the Mississippi) She smiled and shook her head.
"Pas même Dieu se." (Not even God himself) Looking at him, she thought about what she had said before, the way she had said it. Sighing quietly, she started to apologize, "Gambit, Ah'm -"
But he interrupted her before she could. "Have you evah ben to Orleans, cherie?" he asked, his usual cockiness settling back into place. This time it didn't annoy her quite as much as it had in the past, though it was still annoying. She nodded her head.
"Couple times, yeah. Wah?"
"You familiar wit' a place called Les Trois Feux?" The name didn't ring any bells in her head.
"No."
He grinned and settled himself more comfortably in his seat. "Let Gambit tell you 'bout one o' his more memorable nights in Les Trois Feux. . ."
***********************************************
"Okay, so let me get this straight. This guy you're working for sent you out to do run this errand for him. You're going to do it; meanwhile you're also planning on destroying him later on? Is that right?"
Mr. Meanie . . . ahem, Mr. Sinister had his back to Wanda when he answered, as a result his voice was a little muffled. "Yes, that's the plan."
Shaking her head, Wanda sat down on a boulder and squinted against the bright burning sun of Egypt. "I don't get it. Why waste your time doing the errand then, if you're planning on killing him? I mean it's probably just going to backfire on you anyways."
Sighing in exasperation, he turned around. Small beads of sweat glistened on his silver skin. "Look, I have to do this to keep him from suspecting anything. The last thing I want is for him to know that I'm trying to undermine him. Get it?"
Wanda shrugged and lifted one hand in half a shrug. "I bet he already knows. It's not really something you can hide from someone else. I mean, the desire to kill someone is pretty obvious. Maybe you guys just have some issues that you need to talk about. Get it all out in the open. It might help."
He stared at her blankly for a full twenty seconds. "Are you mentally unbalanced or something?"
"Actually, yes."
Clamping his hands over his face, Mr. Sinister muffled his own frustrated yell. Of ALL the people he could have enticed to the dark side, he had to pick the ONE FREAKIN' psychotic who had been through counseling at one point in her life. No wonder it had been so easy to tempt her. Dammit, now he was stuck with her
"Look," he growled, dropping his hands and trying to keep from exploding, "just do what I told you to do. And NO MORE QUESTIONS!" With that he slammed a foot down, spun on his heel, and stalked back into the darkness of the cave. Wanda watched him until he disappeared and then turned back to stare across the shimmering sands. She had to be ready when the X-men came a callin'.