Disclaimer: I probably don't need to say it every time, but just to be on the save side: I own them. I mean I don't own them. Phew, almost caught me there.
A/N This is the second time I post this. Bella's name is Boudreaux and not Devereaux. How I even thought of that name is a bit of a mystery to me. Let's just say I'm a poet and an artist and I use my right of free mumbo-jumboing. Anyway, I've corrected it now.
A.M.bookworm247 spits out a cotton ball Yuk. Cotton balls are not all they're cracked up to be. I never meant this to be a Romy story, but since the Romy-groupie wagon is getting pretty stuffed (not to mention now with all the cotton balls and fluff), I will sort of try and get it started. However, do not expect Romance with capital R. I'm not a romaniac.
Ishandahalf Damn you, with golden stars. I cannot resist....too powerfull...I must...so shiny...can't resist....help...me... You got me. I'll try some more Romy sigh
Anime addicted Amusing?! Amusing?! I go for totally hilarious or nothing at all! Oh, sorry, that was me pretending to be fishing. This is the real me again. Thank you, hope you like this one too.
Shrianai Seito Whaaaaaa! jumps up and hides behind large crates......pops out head, very, very carfully Did you just insult me and throw poisened darts at me?
A/N Grand Dinner is on, finally.
5. Pleased to meet you, hope you guessed my nameFissie
''Damien, who?'' Ororo asked.
''Damien Black, fittin' non?'' He smiled at her.
''Who's Damien Black?'' Xavier asked.
''Me.'' He frowned his eyebrows a bit, pretending he didn't understand what all the questioning was all about.
''I thought you're name was Remy.'' Xavier retorted.
''It is. An' y' remembered, how nice. I feel loved.'' Remy said sarcastically.
''If Remy's your name, why call yourself differently?'' Xavier said a bit more seriously, mildly irritated about the Cajun's behavior.
''Y' wan' dinner?'' It was more a statement than a question.
''Yes.'' Xavier was becoming increasingly confused.
''Den call me Damien Black tonight.'' Satisfied of the answer he gave, he put on some shades.
They reached the garage. Scott and Storm took out two cars. Logan grabbed his bike and spotted a Harley in the other corner. A old beauty. Black with hints of red, expensive leather, custom-made handles. Must have cost a fortune. Than it hit his mind, this bike was not the bike he saw standing outside O'Mally's. The one he could have sworn was Remy's, since it had his scent all over it.
''That bike yours?'' Remy was a bit startled by the question, but he didn't let it notice.
Can' lie t'him, he'd smell it. ''Course.'' He said nonchalantly. It is now, anyway.
''Don't look like the bike you used to go to O'Mally's.''
Merde. ''Wha' y' mean?'' How'd he know what bike I used t'get t' O'Mally's? Logan sniffed. Oh, right. It's de Wolverine we be talkin' 'bout. Nevermind, den.
''That bike is a different bike, bub.'' He said, pointing at it with an extended claw, making his point very clear.
''Oui, but dis is my bike, de one at O'Mally's was borrowed.'' Good. Dat ain' a complete lie.
''Oh, really? Borrowed with consent?''
''I left a note.'' Dat's true. It was true, the note read: Roses are red, Violets are blue, you took my heart, I took your bike. The Hell's Angel biker was not amused when he read the note. Remy smirked internally at the thought.
Quickly he added
''Follow me.'' To stop Logan from asking any more questions that would result in a gutted Remy.
------
Two cars and two bikes pulled over to the restaurant. The women were trying to get out of the cars, without getting their clothing wrinkled. Meanwhile, the men looked up to the restaurant they stood in front of. The entrance was placed above a few (but just too many) steps. Too much gold colored candles and window frames and too much red colored carpet. 'Restaurant La Boheme' it was called. And it looked more expensive than the Ritz could ever hope to be.
''Yeah, right. Like we're ever going to be allowed in there.'' Kitty said sardonically. She had already gotten out of the car, because her dress was supposed to be wrinkled, as stated by the latest fashion rules.
''No worry, petit. I know de owners.'' Remy said.
''You know the owners of this place? Man, talk about friends in high places.''
Remy turned around, smiling at the little joke.
''Dese are friends o' de fam'ly. We always come 'ere when we're in town.''
Logan sensitive ears could hear the muttered sounds of French ambience music. It was definitely a French restaurant. He just hoped they had some decent beer. Logan was not a wine drinker.
He spotted two waiters at the top of the stairs as they looked down passed Logan, to Remy. They looked a bit startled, and one of the two rushed in. Odd behaviour. Oh, wait, Frenchmen. That explains.
Five full minutes later, after all the women had gotten out of the cars, and as they started to climb the steps to the front of the restaurant, the French ambience music was suddenly gone. A second later, Logan could hear the distinct sound of jazz coming from the restaurant.
As they reached the top of the stairs, there was a ramp on the side to lead the professor up too, the maître greeted Remy.
''Monsieur, how nice to have you here again.'' He shook his hand. The distinct French accent was very audible. (A/N not very writable, though. I mean how do you write a rolling r? Sorry for that.)
''Nice t'be here, mon ami.''
''Do come in, please.''
The place was huge, and richly decorated.
''Would you require the separate room?''
''Oui, f'r ten. We're here t'celebrate mon ami's birt'day.'' He pointed at Xavier.
''Very well, this way please. And congratulations, monsieur.'' Xavier thanked.
''The room is not ready yet, so if you will please wait the foyer.'' He snapped his fingers and five waiters took the coats of the new arrivals.
''The foyer is this way please.''
The place was wonderful, but still Kurt and Beast were a little nervous. The restaurant was quite full. They weren't used to go out without their image inducers and they felt looked at. Not entirely without reason.
A few gentlemen who sat at a table across the room were gazing at them. They stared at them with shock and disgust at first, seeing two blue furry creatures in tuxedo's. Mutie scum, they thought, their disgust plainly distinguishable on their faces. But that look disappeared the minute they saw a tall, lean, auburn haired man standing next to the two mutants.
Oh no. They were here with him. Shock and disgust were replaced by worry and utter terror. They could see him say something to them. He must have seen them looking at the two mutants. They gulped, hoping for the better, but fearing the worst.
''Zey are looking at us.'' Kurt said sadly as his heart sank. Once again, his image scared and disgusted people. Hank didn't look very happy either. Remy appeared next to them.
''Don't worry, mon ami. You g' on ahead, I talk to dem.'' Remy guided Hank and Kurt through the doors to the separate room. Then he turned around to meet the gentlemen's gazes. An almost angelical smile shone on his face, his head slightly bowed to the side. Elegantly he walked towards the men.
''Bonjour, mes amis.'' He placed his hands on the table with a little bit more noise than absolutely necessary and leaned forward a bit.
''What you say we have a li'l chat, ney?'' His shades slid down his nose a bit. The angelical smile turned into a devilish grin as the two men looked straight at two eerie red-glowing demon-like eyes. They didn't dare to speak, eat, look away or run. They wished they had never even looked at those mutants like that or, even better, at all. They wished they were blind. They should have known better. Damien Black, mutant as he may be, is not a man you should mess with.
Five minutes later, Remy joined the rest of the group. They stood in a little hallway, waiting for the doors to the adjoining room to open when the Cajun came in. He straightened the sleeves on his jacket. Logan could smell fear coming from him, but it didn't smell like his own. He was going to make a remark about it when the doors to the adjoining room opened.
''Welcome to the Parisian Diner. Mesdames, Messieurs.'' The maitre guided them in.
A too posh and too richly adorned room with a too luxuriously decorated table met with the mutants.
''This is your table. Monsieur...'' He took away the chair at the head of the table, so Xavier could place himself there.
''Thank you very much.'' Everyone walked up to their places. In order, Xavier at the head, Jean, Scott, Kitty and Hank on one side, Logan at the far end and Kurt, Storm, Remy and Rogue on the other side. Remy pulled out Storm's chair. At that very point and out of thin air three new waiters appeared to seat the other women. Storm thanked Remy, and he answered
''Anything f'r a beautiful lady, non, Stormy?''
''Yes, thank you.'' she said in a sweet, calm voice and in that same voice she added ''And do not call me Stormy unless you want hail to meet your path.''
''Y'r wish is m' command.'' He smiled and sat down himself, while muttering ''Stormy.'' She glared at him, but couldn't resist the smile he gave her. She smiled. I'm afraid I am never going to loose that nickname.
Jean and Kitty also thanked their waiters, Rogue, naturally did not.
''Ah know how to pull out a chair, thank you very much.'' She said scornfully, irritated at the whole manner-thing.
''Chere, dey're just bein' polite, dat's all.''
''They're being obnoxious, there's a difference, you know.''
''Non, but maybe y' can explain it t'me sometime, ney, chere? Maybe tonight?'' He almost whispered it into her ear, in a silky, soft voice.
''Shut up, Cajun.'' She turned to him in anger, and found that his face was only a few centimeters, no, make that millimeters, away from hers. Don't blush, come on, Ah don't wear enough makeup, he'd see it. Don't blush.
''Red looks good on y', chere.''
Damn. ''Keep your eyes to yourself, unless ya want me to knock them shut!''
''Sorry, chere. We kiss an' make up?''
''Don't even try it, Cajun! You know what will happen.''
''Oui. Den again, maybe it's wort' it, non?''
Briefly a smile materialized on her face. Maybe...no, Ah can't let that happen. The split-second-smile was gone. ''Get lost!''
------
They ordered. The waiter had written the orders down and was about to walk away when Remy coughed so lightly that Wolverine had to make an effort to hear it. Swiftly the waiter turned around and stood by Remy's side.
''Monsieur?''
Remy ordered something, and it was not in English as Kitty could hear. The waiter nodded and left.
''Wow, you like totally speak French!''
''Non, I speak Cajun, petit. Not French.''
''Yeah, well that practically the same, right?''
He laughed looking at the direction of the waiter. ''Shh. Don' ever let a Frenchman hear y' say dat. Non, petit it ain' de same. Dey understand, but it not de same.''
She looked at him questionly.
''I say 'patate' he say 'pomme de terre'. It's a difference.''
A minute later the waiter came back with a bottle of his finest wines. He poured Remy a glass. Remy tasted it.
''Tastes good t'me, mon ami, merci.'' He pointed at the rest of the table to indicate that more glasses needed to be filled. Xavier wanted to make a remark, but decided against it. It's just one glass of wine, there can't be any harm in it. Besides, it is my birthday.
The rest of the evening Xavier choose to enjoy himself a bit without worrying too much. This decision was not made entirely independent of the knowledge that none of his students seemed to like the wine (which was so old that it tasted more like port than anything else). Kitty, Kurt, Jean, Evan and Rogue had tasted it and hated it. Ororo didn't seem to like it either. Logan, on the other hand, seemed to enjoy it very much. Not beer, but not bad.
So, without concern, Xavier was now appreciating the deliciousness of the food served and found himself enjoying the company, small-talk and jokes of his students and friends.
-------
''So, Remy'' He glared at her. ''I mean, Damien, What was your favorite assignment at school?'' Jean was curious and anxious for small talk, as usual.
Got' be consistent now. ''History and Art.''
''Cool, are you going to go to College?''
''An' do what?''
''Well, study. Art history, for example.''
''I thought about it f'r a while, an' den firmly decided 'gainst it.''
''Oh. Why?''
''Don' wan' t' bore m'self to death just yet, chere''
''Proper education is very important, you know?'' Scott said critically, jealous of the blush that had formed on Jean's face at the mention of 'chere'. Remy was flirting a bit with her.
''You know?'' Scott said again.
''I heard y', Cycke...I heard y', processed it an' now I'm ignorin' y'.''
-------
First course came. Evan looked at it. Blinked, looked again. Blinked again. And again. And again. He took a fork and pocked it. Then he spoke.
''It's life Jim, but not as we know it.''
Remy smiled. ''Dem be escargots, mon ami.''
''They look like snails.''
''Dey are.''
''Ah.''
--------
''So what did you do before joining us?'' Scott had a bad feeling about the Cajun. He wanted to know more. He wanted everyone else to have a bad feeling about the Cajun as well. He still didn't understand how Xavier could just sit back and not be suspicious about anything.
''Been 'round a bit. Seen places. Paris, Rome, Amsterdam, Budapest, Ankara, Hong-Kong...''
''But what did you do for a living?'' Scott interrupted. ''I mean, you did work, right? If you didn't study, you must have worked.''
''I worked.''
''As what?''
''Different job in every town. Not very intellectually challenging, dough, but hey, de sites are good.''
--------
''This tastes, like, totally great!'' Kitty practically yelled to the her main course.
Remy sniggered.
''What?''
''Not'in'.''
''What? Don't just, like, laugh at me!''
''Y'do know what y'r eatin', right?''
''What am I eating?''
No answer came, only more sniggers.
''Tell me!''
Snigger.
''TELL ME!''
The sniggering stopped.
''Brains.'' He said casually.
She spat her food out. ''Oh my God!''
Evan spat out his food as well, but only because he was chocking on it while laughing.
''I think I'm going to be sick now.''
''Does zat mean your not going to eat zat, zen?'' Kurt said while already sticking his fork in her food.
''Ewh. I'm so totally going to be sick now.''
--------
''...and then the nun says: Oh, you're a fisherman .'' Evan ended, between chuckles to his own joke. Everyone sort of smiled at the terrible, terrible joke, not wanting to disappoint Evan, but not wanting to make anyone else believe they liked it either. Remy, however, laughed wholeheartedly and quite loud, apparently they shared a strange sense of humor.
God, he's so cute when he laughs. Rogue stared at him. Did I think that? Oh yeah, I thought that. And why not. It's true, he is cute. Yes, and Ah'm untouchable, so just drop it. Am Ah having a discussion with myself. God, Ah'm sad.
She's starin' at me. I can feel it. Feels nice. She's nice. Remy looked at her and smiled. She looked at him viciously, before terminating eye-contact.
Can't have him knowing I stared at him.
Oui, nice girl. Cold as ice, wid a glare matchin' Logan's, but beautiful, nonedeless.
-------
''...So me an' m'cousin, we got caught, red-handed.''
''No!'' Evan couldn't believe his ears.
''Oui.''
''Right there?''
''Oui. Dere we were, two kids, wid our li'l hands in de jewelry case o' ma tante.''
''Oh my God. Were they, like, totally furious?'' Kitty asked.
''Oui. We got grounded f'r a month an' couldn' sit f'r a week.''
It certainly was an amusing story. Of course, Remy forgot mentioning that the jewelry case of his aunt was hidden in a supposedly unbreakable and impenetrable vault. Guarded with an infra-red security system and dozens of cameras. And that the jewelry case contained only one jewel. A diamond, better known as the 'Diamond of Montague'. And that his aunt was actually the wife of the head of the New Orleans High Society Club and not truly related to him at all. And that their fathers had strictly prohibited them to set up a mission of their own to steal it. And that when his father found both of them in the vault, he got so angry that he almost lost control and set the alarms off. But, even leaving those details out, the story was great.
-------
''Am I the only one who finds it just a little bit strange that we're treated like royalty here, and that everyone addresses to Gambit as Monsieur?'' Scott said suddenly out of nowhere. The diner went silent. Only jazz could be heard.
''De name's Damien here, homme.'' He answered seriously.
''Fine, am I the only one who finds it strange that we're treated like royalty here, and that Gambit uses a fake name?''
''But homme, what's in a name, a thorn by any other name would sting as hard.'' Remy said poetically, with one hand in the air, pretending to be Hamlet. Hank smiled at the creative use of a Shakespearean quote.
''Well it's not exactly normal, is it. I for one would like to know...''
''Open y'r mouth.'' Remy interrupted.
''What?''
''Open y'r mouth.'' Strangely Scott found himself actually doing so. Remy bent over the table and looked into Scott's mouth. Remy sighed.
''Y'need to loosen up, homme, de stick is so high up y'r ass, I can see it from 'ere, it ain' healthy.''
''Shut up.'' Scott said angrily. Some chuckles could be heard in the diner.
''All I be sayin' is: live a li'l. Enjoy y'rself widout broodin' about everyting all de time. Have fun f'r once in y'r live. 'Sides, y'r spoilin' m'dinner wid dat frown o' yours.'' Having said that he continued eating, but not before snapping his fingers to acquire a second bottle of wine within an instant. He could be the Prince of France, the way they treat him here. Oh, wait, France is a republic.
-------
How old is he? Nineteen, twenty. That means he's only three years older than me. That's good. Good? Hang on, am Ah actually counting out our age-difference, here? Can someone tell me why Ah just did that? Am Ah losing my mind here?
-------
''...and den de cop says: Oh, dat's a gun , den.''
Evan practically rolled over the floor of laughter. Remy chuckled as well as he gulped down some more wine. The second bottle was almost empty, so he snapped his fingers once more not even looking up to see if anyone heard him.
He looks so good, but he has a terrible sense of humor. But that's okay, Ah could live with it. But Ah don't want to live with it, do Ah? No Ah don't. Then why am Ah thinking it? When did my mind get a mind of it's own?
A minute later, the third bottle was placed on the table.
''This is some fine wine, kid.'' Wolverine was starting to appreciate French cuisine, and wine, especially the wine. Especially this wine, it's taste somewhat resembled Cognac.
''Oui, I know, everyone should try it.'' He said looking at Scott.
''Everyone has not got age nor necessity to drink.'' Scott retorted.
''Everyone should lighten up f'r a change an' at least taste it.''
''No thank you.'' He said firmly.
''Oh, com' on, Cycke. What's de worst dat can happen, hey? Dat y'don' like it? Dat y'spit it out? Dat y'get drunk, don' remember how to go home an' pass out on de sideway? Don' worry bout it, homme! We find y' in de mornin'.'' A grin found it's way to the Cajuns face. ''Promise.''
-------
Somewhere else in New YorkIt took him some time to remember who he was and why he was here. Now he remembered, he needed confirmation. He took a news paper and looked at it.
''It worked. I'm there.''
He glanced at his watch. It's broken, the crash must have smashed it. How will I find him now?
He looked around It looks so...peaceful, so innocent, so unharmed. He was determined. I'm going to make sure I'll never have to go back where I came from.
-------
Back at the restaurantThey finished dessert and coffee was served. Insanely strong coffee was served.
''Ah, jus' de way I like it.'' Remy said. This was coffee the way he was used to it. Real Coffee. Wolverine loved it, Storm sipped it away very, very slowly, Jean practically chocked on it, Scott winced at it, Kurt was trying desperately to find a place to throw it up in, Kitty almost fainted at the smell of it, Evan gulped it down quickly, hoping not to taste it, Hank analyzed it, realized it had to much toxic substance (read: caffeine) and decided against even tasting it, Xavier mentally projected to himself to make him believe it was a nice cup of faint tea before drinking it, and Rogue simply drank it, not showing her disgust. This is so disgusting. He likes it this way? Ah don't believe it. Does the guy have no taste buds on his tongue? Maybe I should check it out sometime...Oh, man, here I go again.
''Cigar?'' A waiter stood next to Remy and offered one of the cigars in the wooden box that he held.
''Come on, y'try dat every time. I don' smoke dose. Not enough nicotine, 'member?'' He shook his head, smiled as he looked at Xavier. ''Dey never learn.'' Xavier looked at the young man questionably.
''Cigar, monsieur?'' The same man asked Xavier.
''No thank you, I do not smoke.''
Only Logan took a cigar. Real Cuban, and not the cheap kind either. Kid has got style, gotta admit that.
-------
''This certainly was a wonderful dinner. Thank you.'' Xavier said to Remy, while they stood in the lobby waiting for their coats.
''Y'r welcome.'' He nodded.
The coats arrived.
Y'all go on ahead, I catch up wid y' later. Gon' pay now.''
The party of nine left the restaurant, satisfied and absolutely stuffed.
''Pay? Remy, that will be a first.'' The waiter said, appearing behind Remy.
''Shut up.'' Remy said with a smile, and then more seriously he added "And it be Damien here, remember. Don' wan' y' sayin' m' name here ever again.''
''Oh, come on, the restaurant is empty, no one's here anymore. Damien's just for business, non?''
''Inconsistency killed de cat, mon ami. Y' call me Damien Black here, always, no exceptions, no but's, fin.'' He added strictly.
''Fine, fine. Damien Black it is.'' The waiter really didn't want any more problems with this man.
''Bien. As f'r payment, I think I pay you de traditional way.'' He smirked.
''Ah, good old fashioned blackmail, I suppose.''
''Y'got it.''
''Yeah, yeah, I know what the deal is, don't worry. Just give your father my regards will you?''
''Sure will.''
------
'Give your father my regards...' rang through his head. I wish I could... he thought.
All the way back to the mansion he thought of his past. It had been hell on the streets, trying to survive. And then, Jean-Luc LeBeau noticed him picking his pocket. He almost broke m' arm when he caught me. He smiled warily at the thought. Dat's what a street rat get if he try t' steal de wallet from de Leader of de New Orleans Guild o' Thieves.
After that unfortunate accident, Jean-Luc had taken the nine year old pick pocket in, and he and Mattie, Remy's new Tante, raised him as a son and Master Thief as required to be a member of the Guild. De first monds mus' hav' been hell f'r dem. They probably were. His brother, Henri, always said that he got in more trouble than he could handle and very often he was right. The great story of his 'aunt's jewelry' was just one example. Great were the days of this young thief. Remy sighed. But dat's all in de past. he thought sadly.
There was an everlasting feud between the Guild of Thieves and the Guild of Assassins, it went back to when the Guilds had formed, hundreds and hundreds of years ago. So many had lost their lives due to this feud, both Thieves and Assassins. His father and MariusBoudreaux, leader of the Guild of Assassins, decided that the only thing to bring the Guilds together was a marriage between one's son and the other's daughter. At the age of fourteen, Remy was engaged. They didn't really love each other, other than as good friends, but that didn't matter. Remy LeBeau and Belle Boudreaux were to be married on Remy's eighteenth birthday.
Dat day... Everything had gone fine, everyone was there, Thieves and Assassins. The marriage had just been sealed when suddenly...
Dat connard, Julien... Julien Boudreaux entered the scene challenging Remy to a duel to death. He never approved of the marriage and hated the thought of the unification of the Guilds.
Remy soon realized it was a lose-lose situation. If he lost the duel, he would die and the feud between the Guilds would continue. If he won, Julien would die, but the Assassins would not let him get away with it and kill him as soon as they got the chance, causing the feud between the Guilds to continue and worsen.
In spite of these odds Remy fought his best and 'won'. Julien was dead. Unlike what Remy had predicted, the Assassins did not kill him. A Meeting between the two Guilds was held, it was decided that Gambit should leave the Guild and New Orleans and never come back. Remy knew that this was his fathers doing. If de Assassins had deir way, I'd be long dead. Mon pere, he did de best he could. He knew that, and his father knew that too. It was the only way for Remy to live. Just wish I could still see dem someday.
Ever since he had been free-lancing all over the world, taking on jobs no one thought would be possible to pull. No pinch was too hard or too risky for him. No stake to high. He was Gambit.
He was still regarded as a Master Thief, one of the (if not the) best, and member of the Guild to everyone that knew about them. Whatever went on between him and the Guild privately was none of anyone's business.
An now I be 'ere, he thought as he pulled over to the estate of Xavier's School for the Gifted. pretendin' I can belong somewhere 'gain...
He stood there for about five minutes, not knowing what to do, still dwelling lost in thoughts.
If y'can' beat dem, drown 'em. He thought as he decided to eradicate his thoughts at O'Mally's.
A/N Did I just do a bit of angst? I think I did. How unlike me. And look, more Romy-like behaviour. And plot! How nice, a true plot is forming.
Anyway, on next: Will the mystery guy reveal himself? Will he turn out to be a really nice little boy-scout? Will he scare the shit out of Remy? He most certainly will! If he's truly a boy-scout, that is.
And of course you have to review. Because I need reviews as a breath of life guiding me to my computer to write more. ( How dramatic. How soap-opera like. How sad but true. sigh).