Disclaimer: I do not own X-men Evolution

Title: Part Two : The Cajun Card Trick

AU: The second part of an AU arc, main characters- Gambit/Remy, Storm, Rogue, Wolverine/Logan , Kurt/Nightcrawler

This story can be stand alone or not. I am still in two minds - to separate it into another story or keep it here?

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Chapter 1: Playing the cards

The spherical room silently stood on its own, work completed with four mutants detected in the past seventy two hours.

Cerebro's user was incredibly stretched to his limits in resources and he was on his way to pick up two of those mutants.

He had two aircraft's at his disposal-The Blackbird and the Velocity.

The Velocity was else where.

Forced to use the Blackbird, it flew with a light humming noise across of the ocean of a vast planet- Earth. Its outwards appearance looking almost sculptured and its speed cutting through the wind and icy skies.

It was on autopilot as its passenger was currently engaged in a telepathic conversation with another mutant known only as Rogue.

The mission hadn't taken very long, two days maximum and Xavier was proud not only because of the shortness of the mission but also in the fact that this had been Rogue's first mission.

He'd regretfully been unable to send the others with her- they were all on their own missions.

Time was a critical factor for there was no doubt that another was also looking for the four new mutant signatures. The youngest signature was a seven year old child that was classified as their top priority due to his age.

Xavier was slightly unhappy with the amount of time it had taken him and Cerebro to locate the hidden military facility (the location of two of the mutants) but even when he'd found it a few weeks previous- it would have been suicide to send a team in. He'd had to wait to the very last possible hour, until the facility had been evacuated, to send in 'a team.'

Unfortunately when the correct time had finally come- two other mutants had registered with Cerebro.

His people were now scattered across the globe, struggling to offer salvation to those who were scared, confused, angry and hiding.

Rogue was the first to accomplish her mission. She was young in age and in some ways she still was, but in mind she was stubborn, intelligent and a quick thinker. Her style- he usually didn't quite agree with, but her handling of this mission had definitely given him more confidence in her ability.

"They're both awake" her voice spoke in his head, "The only thing I can do I watch them until you come" she confirmed.

He mentally smiled at her maturity and unusual patience. The child had obviously made an impression on her, the other mutant had an attitude that seemed to have brought out some of her more understanding reasonings- thankfully.

"Good work Rogue" the words weren't really adequate but she knew that he was proud.

The Blackbird skimmed the clouds and began its decent.


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Was it really possible for air to smell greasy?

The white-haired, African woman was sure it was now. Her fluid movements and the intelligent spark in her eyes instantly set her apart from the customers in this back alley hellhole of a restaurant, as well as the staff.

She breezed across the room- tables littered with unwashed plates, people with no respect for hygiene slouching in an either drunk, drugged or defeated manor. She sighed, the air irritating her throat.

The faint buzzing yellow lights, depressing people and scraped floors
somehow made her feel a touch claustrophobic.

Her clothes of pale denim jeans, a light pastel blue top partially hidden under a warm winter coat were in sharp contrast to the uncoordinated rags that these people had barely managed to throw on.

She knew that this was the bad end of town, she knew that she should not judge these unfortunate people, they had just run out of luck, but if one more person winked at her suggestively she was willing to tumble down this entire mess with her impressive mutant powers.

She looked around the room, noting that a crowd had enthusiastically built up around a single table in the corner.

Enthusiasm that was actually quite infectious, she approached the table, gently pushing through the mob with a useless "Excuse me."

A teenage boy, eighteen, brownish/auburn hair and a pair of shades sat casually at the table playing poker. His hands were gloved and for a moment they reminded the white-haired lady of Rogue.

Whilst most people had dumped their coats . . . somewhere, he retained his long stained brownish trench coat.

He was a thief- at least that's the impression he gave her.

She should know, she had once been a thief herself- nothing to be proud of.

He was pretending to be focused intently on his cards- his hand, but for a moment she was sure that he'd looked directly at her- though because of the shades it could have been her imagination.

His opponent looked stressed, a balding man that after this night would most likely go completely bald. His entire fortune rested in the centre of the table, so did the thief's.

The smell of beer and sweat helped the tension in the room increase. The boy watched his opponent through his black shades and allowed himself a cocky smirk.

"Y' play d'hand you're dealt" his voice was smooth, young and somehow charmed.

It was also Cajun, she noted.

"Fine" his opponent mustered what he hoped was a confident voice.

They both revealed their cards and as she'd mentally predicted- the child/thief had won.


The crowd made noises of approval or anger, the thief ignored everyone- his 'work' here was done.

"Well d'night is young an' I have t'go" the teenager collected the cash into his arms and shoved the notes into his pocket, he gathered up his cards as well and placed them more carefully into his other pocket.

She observed him shove a few cards up his sleeve in a swift, almost undetectable action.

Something bout the teenager made her think that he could be the one she was looking for.

He slid out of his chair and cheekily patted the balding man on the head as a mark of sympathy, "Maybe nex' time" he encouraged the defeated opponent.


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