Disclaimer: They're not mine. Oh, really? Yes, really. I only own an old worn fishing gear set.

2. Interview with a Cajun.

Fissie

Later that evening in Xavier's study.

''Wolverine, what do you feel about this young man?''

''Well Chuck. The way I see it, the kid has some major issues.''

''Why would you say that?''

''When I found him he had drunk most of the stock of Jack Daniels that O'Mally owns. When we walked away, he didn't even stagger a bit. He's used to drinking large amounts of alcohol and he's, what?, 19, 20. That's not healthy...Remained me to hide my secret stash of liquor later on.''

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Meanwhile, elsewhere.

~Oh, look a secret stash of liquor, all f' me. What a nice welcoming gift. Dey shouldn't have. Really.~

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Back in the study.

''Another weird thing is that there was a Harley parked outside that had his smell all over it, but he never even came near it. We got home in the jeep. All the time he carried that green duffel bag like it got everything he owns.''

''So, what your saying is that I should be prepared for a strange young man.''

''I'm telling ya should be prepared for a strange, untrusting, loner young man. He looks like he's been through a lot. He names himself Gambit, for God's sake.''

''I see.''

''Oh, and aside of the drinking, he swears a lot, doesn't listen and he smokes.''

Wolverine walked out the study.

~Looks like we have another Wolverine on our hands.~ Xavier sighed mentally. This was not going to be easy.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Since it was Saturday evening when Gambit arrived at the mansion, they decided to wait until morning for the admission interview and sorts. The meeting would be at 10 in the morning on Sunday, a time Gambit had not known existed.

So, at that ungodly hour, Kurt, who was very much of a morning person, waked Gambit. ~How does he get s' cheerful in de mornin'?~

''Did you not sleep vell tonight? You don't look so good.''

''Sure I did, jus' ain't much of a mornin' person, me.'' ~Plus, I've been to town to finish de job. Oh, an' I've been checking your personal files.~ He though of those files. ~Dieu, de people here have problems. Serious issues. Mornin' happiness bein' one. Mornin' trainin' sessions bein' two. ~

He got up, showered, got dressed and wandered to the office, slowly, taking time to examine all the aspects of the estate.

*-*-*-*-*-*

Scott was already present in the study, complaining about their newest recruit.

''That's what he said! If you can't beat them, join them! What is that supposed to mean?''

''Well, I've explained him a bit about us last night. About our enemies, the Brotherhood and Magneto. I suppose he was just joking. Do not take it too serious.''

''Yeah, sure, whatever. I don't trust him.'' An angry Scott walked out of the office realizing he was not going to be able to reason with Xavier. ~That man would allow Sabertooth to our school if he promised to behave! It's beyond naive to just allow a guy out of a pub to our school. How did he find him anyway?~. He stormed past Gambit, who was on his way in. Glares were exchanged.

''An' ain't it a beau mornin', cher?'' He smirked.

''Get lost.''

Gambit stepped inside the study.

'' 'Ello, Prof.''

''Good morning, Gambit. I trust you slept well.'' Gambit nodded.

''Have you heard the news this morning.'' Gambit shook his head.

''They mentioned an explosion at the N.Y. prison. This was at the exact moment Cerebro found a high mutant activity in that general area. Would I be correct to presume you were the cause of the explosion? And may I ask what you were doing there?''

''Sure.''

Ten seconds of silence followed.

''Well, what were you doing there?'' The professor tried not to loose his patience.

~Stealing files...Dat ain' a good answer.~ Gambit realized he had to lie now. Obviously the truth would not do. Luckely, telepaths couldn't sense if he was lying, he found this out a long time ago. Wolverine (as he had read in the files) was the only one who could smell it when he lied, and he wasn't there. Lying was a good option.

''Dere was a fight dere. I got involved. A charged stone flung to de wrong direction. Boom. Not like anyone escaped. Should I have left a sorry-note?''

''...'' The proffesor knew he was hiding something, the story was a bit absurd. But since he couldn't pinpoint it and a lot of absurd things happen to mutants he decided to let it go.

''I think it's time to fill in your file, so we know a bit more about you. Do you mind if I ask you some questions?''

'' S'long as y' don' expect any schoolbook answers.'' The professor gave him a disturbed look. ~This might prove to be more difficult than I thought. Wolverine was right. A loner, an untrusting young man.~

'' Yes, well, we'll start than. Your name...''

''Gambit.''

''No, I mean your real name.''

~I told Wolverine, might as well tell Xavier as well.~ ''Remy.''

''And your last name?''

"Remy's de first, last an' only.'' ~De less dey know, de less dey find out.~

''Alright. Age?''

''Depends.''

''Depends? On what?''

~What I.D. y're checking.~ ''On who y' ask. Generally, I be 20.''

''Than you are too old to enroll in Bayville High. Have you had prior education?''

~Typical, y'talk wid an accent, dey t'ink y'never went t'school...Wait, dat's true, I never went to school...Just...Merde, how do I put dis?...~

''Private ed., sort of.''

''That's nice. In what courses did you excel?''

~Oh, just your basic thievery, stealth, impersonations, jewel- and painting-theft, lying, dueling, hacking...De everyday essentials of a Master Thief.~

''Art an' history.''

''Oh, good. Maybe you could continue studying here. Art History, for example. I could provide the funds. Maybe you'll think about it?''

''Maybe.'' ~Maybe not...Probably not...Definitely not...~

''Let's continue with the list, shall we. I take it you are from Louisiana. New Orleans?''

''Born an' bred.'' ~An' exiled.~

''Is there any family we should inform on your stay here?''

''Non.'' ~If dey care, dey'll find out. If dey don't care...dey probably don't care...~

''I would like to know more about your mutancy, aside of the obvious bio-kinetic powers. Did you know you are invisible to telepaths.''

''Oui.''

''How do you do it? What source is behind it? I sense no telepathy from you.''

''I don' know. It just is.'' ~He can't sense empathy. It's gotta be a different wave length or somethin'. Dat's good. Dat's very good.~

''Another question regarding your mutancy, your eyes. Do you experience different vision?''

''M'eyes? I suppose I see better in de dark.'' ~Not to mention I see infra-red. Oh, an' I can' stand bright light...*internal sigh*...Gotta stop makin' myself feel like Gizmo.~

''Would you require an image inducer to cover them up?''

''Non. I have shades.'' ~Bright light! Bright light!...Merde, I scare me.~

''I see. Well, that's the end of the list.'' ~There aren't any questions left here that you would or could answer.~

''Hank McCoy would like to give you a physical exam...'' The word 'exam' had not been pronounced when Remy interrupted.

''Non, merci. I be fine. Healthy as can be.''

''Yes, I know, but all students...''

''I be fine. No need for no physical.'' His eyes started to glow with anger. A reddish, devilish glow. He turned the little control he had over the you-do-whatever-I-want-side of his empathy to the max. ~I don't need no physical. Ain't goin' near no lab unless it be in a body bag.~

''Alright, I suppose it can wait.'' ~Merci Dieu. Empathy 1, Telepathy 0.~

''Before I forget. You will have a Danger Room session this afternoon. Don't be too alarmed, it won't be too hard. It's more an assessment of your capabilities and, of course, a demonstration of your powers to the rest of the students. After that we could introduce you properly to them.''

''Fine wid me, Prof.''

''Well, any other questions I should come up with I will ask then. Now, for some rules we have around here.'' ~Merde, rules? Dis is startin' to become de Sound o' Music more an' more.~

''Curfew is 11 o'clock for senior students.'' The professor continued. ''Weekends are more or less free. Training sessions are random and everyone summoned is required to attend. We don't allow smoking, drinking, swearing or anything like that at this mansion. Now, do you have any questions?''

''Oui. Why do y' boder livin'?''

''Excuse me?''

''You take away all fun. What's de point den?''

''De...the fun?'' Xavier was a bit baffled.

''De fun. Smokin', drinkin', swearin', , livin' in de night.'' ~Stealin', gamblin', cheatin' an' de list of fun continues...~

''Well, we have other means of 'fun'.''

''Such as?''

''Well……….'' While the professor thought about it, Gambit lifted an arm and reached to an invisible make-believe shelf. He took an invisible make-believe book, opened it and started to search in it.

''Ah, here. Boredom. State o' mind in which...Hey look it's got y'r picture's right 'ere.''

The professor got a bit annoyed by this attitude.

''You do know that you're free to leave if you want at any time.''

~An' where would I go?~ ''Oui. But I think I can manage.'' ~I'm tired o' de free lance business, anyway. Jus' reminds me more dat I don' belong anywhere. Dis might be a nice change for once. If only...~

''Are you alright?'' Xavier saw Remy's face become grimmer, sadder even.

~Merde. Poker-face must be slipping...Say something, change de subject~ ''I heard it was y' birthday tomorrow.''

''Yes, and like every year I will take all my students out to dinner. You are naturally invited.''

''I ain't got no gift for y'. An' y'r bein' very kind t'me. So let me make it up to y'. Let me take y'all out dis time.''

''Oh no, really. It will be fine. You don't have to...''

''Non. Really. I take you out. No problem. 'S de least I can do, non?. Jus' tell everyone to dress posh, and tomorrow night dinner's on me.''

~Does he relize taking out so many students is not a cheap thing to do. How on earth is this child going to pay for it?~

Remy could almost hear Xavier's thoughts.

''Is a nice place, an' I know de owners. Dey won't charge me much if I explain dem why we're dere. Oh, an' leave de stupid image inducers at home. Don' need 'em where we're goin.''

''Well, in that case, thank you, I suppose.''

''Hey, y' know what dey say. If you can' beat dem, ask em out to dinner.''

On next: Will there really be a posh dinner? Or will it be take away McDonalds?