Disclaimer: I got my hair, got my nose, got my fingers, got my toes, got my eyes, got my…well, you get the idea. I don't got these characters.
Anime Addicted Good. It was supposed to be blah, blah, blah, because the whole Scott Jean thing is blah blah blah. I mean, I don't like em either, but, I don't know, I got tired of writing Scott being jealous. Besides, now Remy can focus on Rogue some more. Just remember that I will never do a blah blah blah thing to Remy and Rogue. I think.
Ishandahalf A woman? I think he need a shrink and a nice set of soft stumpy crayons.
Lonewolf *muffles huge grin away coughing* You devious character, shame on you. And thank you, but I think I'll stay on this side of the river and just shout the story to you…it's saver than a rowboat. (And sorry if I forgot to answer your previous review. It was not intented.)
Leann Thanx. It _is _ a series, isn't it. Wow, I've created something consistent.
Forgotten Havok … Okay … you're a bit …er … scary, and I mean that in the best and nicest possible way. I think you liked the story, *sigh of relief * that's good, read more, be patient and don't kill me or anything…
A.M.bookworm247 With the suit and the being pushed around Remy's being a real po' boy. And as for including history in my story: *Long evil laugh * and I'm not finished yet…*Some more evil laugh* *choke*
A/N Alrighty all ye lads and lasses, get ready for another (long) chapter. It may not be a very progressive chapter, but they are scenes I thought of and just had to include…hope you like it.
****************************************
10. A sucking chest wound is nature's way of telling you to slow down.
Fissie
Another disturbing start of another otherwise perfect day. Remy sat on a chair in his room looking at the uniform that was spread on the bed. He sighed. No way on earth he was going to wear that. It would make him look like a Scott clone. A better looking, taller one, but still a clone. He thought of his options. One, not wearing it. Good for image, good for style, not good for staying on the team. Two, accidentally burn it. Good, until they get a new one. Besides, he had the feeling this suit wouldn't burn that easily. Three, wearing it. He shuddered. ~Not an option.~ Four...he took his green duffel bag from under his bed, took out his old suit and placed it on the bed. He stared at both outfits. ~To wear or not to wear. Shall I wear dat stupid "X marks y'r shot" costume, or should I wear m' old Thieves suit: comfy, better lookin', protectin', worn in. Oh de horrors dat come wid decision makin'.~ He grinned. ''Bishop? Care f'r a demonstration o y'r gun?'' He waved the Scott-look-a-like suit around on his left hand. ''I got a pigeon right here.''
''I do not believe we should do that.'' Bishop said looking up.
''Should? non, would? probably, like? maybe, love? sure as hell.''
Bishop remembered those words. LeBeau had spoken them before, many times before, when he was just a child. Life with a thief had not always been unpleasant.
''Come on,'' Remy continued. ''I throw it out the window, y' shoot it. Y need t' blow off some steam. Fun times. On count o' three.''
''Why wait for three?'' A weird look spread across Bishop's face. The gun made that particular sound Gambit knew all too well.
''Hey! Wait 'till I throw it!'' He threw it.
The second the suit was out of the Cajun's hand, Bishop blasted it to a million slightly burning pieces
''Fun times indeed, LeBeau.''
Remy was stunned. ''Y' _do_ need t' blow off some steam. Come wid me, I got somethin' t' show y'. It's a little place called de Danger Room. Y'r gonna love it.''
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
Two hours later Remy walked in on Storm in her greenhouse. Happy and alone.
'''Ello Stormy.''
''Do not call me that.'' She gave him a determined look and shoved a watering can in his hands. ''Where is Bishop?''
''M' appendix is currently exercisin' in de Danger Room, chere.'' He placed the can on a small table. She took the can again and shoved it back in his hands.
''Make yourself useful.'' She said calmly.
''Why don' y' jus' let it rain in here?''
''I learned to use my powers only when necessary. Controlling the weather is not child play.'' He shrugged and started watering the roses. ''Did you try on the uniform?''
''Dat's what I came here for. I ain' wearin' it. Got m' own.''
She looked up to him. ''Your own? Oh, but I don't think...''
''Chere, y' can' make m' look like a Cycke-clone. Have a heart.'' Remy pleaded ''De uniform I got is jus' fine. Worked f'r me so far. Come on, Stormy.'' He put a look on his face he knew was non-resistible.
''Very well, but if you call me Stormy one more time, I will personally see to it that your hair will be cut like Scott's, and I shall not use scissors, my friend.''
Remy could have sworn he saw lightning flash in her eyes. He wisely decided to shut up and water the plants. He liked his hair, and his life.
Remy was amazed at the amount of plants in the greenhouse. Plants, flowers, very nice, very useless. Then he spotted a mint plant. He brushed his hand through it and sniffed.
''It does smell nice, doesn't' it.'' Storm smiled.
''Reminds o' Mint Julep. Dat's a drink I used t' make back in New Orleans. Mint an' bourbon make a good combination.''
''I'm sure.'' She sighed and shook her head. The boy was never going to grow up.
''Know some fine Egyptian recipes wid mint as well.'' He said casually.
''You do?''
''I like t' eat local food when I travel.''
''You've been to Egypt?''
''Oui, Cairo. Y' were born dere, non?'''
Storm raised an eyebrow. ''Yes, but I do not recall having told you.''
''De walls got ears 'round here, chere.''
She looked at him with unbelieve. ''You mean you have checked our personal files.''
''Same thin' non?''
''Hardly.'' She sounded serious but she was smiling. How could she be mad at such a radiant young man.
''Al dis talk 'bout mint made me thirsty. Wan' somethin' too?''
''No, I'll be all right. And thank you for helping me water the plants.''
''Y'r welcome. Y' let me get some o' dose spices 'f I need dem someday?''
''Of course. I hope some day soon, if you are planning on cooking.''
''Maybe. Dis house is in desperate need o' some good Cajun food, ma petite tempête. ''
A cold chilly wind accompanied him to the door of the greenhouse. He waved her goodbye.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
Wolverine was fixing his bike when Remy came into the garage.
''She don' sound too good.''
''I know.''
''Need help?''
''I'm fine.''
''Whatever.'' He walked over to the Cabinet Formerly Known As Wolverine's Secret Stash Of Liquor, took out an open bottle of wiskey and a glass, filled it and sat on his own bike. Wolverine was so concentrated on his current job, that he didn't even notice it (or at least he didn't seem to care about it.)
''Y' sure y' wan' t' be doin' dat? I think y' better...''
''Look kid, shut up. I don't need your advice.''
A slight sizzling sound came from the bike.
''Fuck.''
''Mind your language, Wolverine.'' Scott said. ~Scott?~ This was odd. Logan smelled Remy but he heard Scott. The only logical conclusion was swiftly found: Mystique. She must have found a way to smell just like the one she imitated as well. He turned around and slammed the body into the wall.
''Hey, don' wrinkle de shirt.''
''Drop it, Mystique.''
''Who? Y' mean de funny lookin' lady dats wid Magneto? I didn't think I looked like her.''
The sharp claws came nearer to his chest. Wolverine was getting feral.
''Logan, I ain' Mystique, I jus' do a good impression o' Four-eyes, non?'' The claw was cutting him.
''Can' y' smell I ain' Mystique, homme? No lady perfume. Well, cept Stormy's maybe, but I swear I didn't do anythin' wid her dat could be regarded illegal in any o' de 50 states.''
~Stormy? No one does that except the Cajun.~ He stepped away. The Cajun was bleeding.
''Fuck. Look what y' done. Y' got grease all over m' best shirt.''
''That worn out, torn, old shirt is your best?''
''Dis worn out, torn, old, Armani shirt is m' best. Merde, y' ruined it.'' He looked down at his battered shirt and noticed.'' _An _ I'm bleedin'. Connard. Not everyone has healin' factor y'know.''
''It's just a shallow wound.''
''It's bleedin', dat's what it is, ol' man.''
He took off his shirt muttering some more curses. Logan noticed scars that ran down his chest and stomach. They looked awfully familiar to him.
''I knew it.'' Wolverine growled.
''Say what homme?'' He started folding the shirt, decided it was useless, stopped folding it and threw it in in the trash can.
''You don know Sabertooth. Those scars.'' Looking at them more closely, Logan realized that the wounds must have been pretty serious to leave such scars.
''Oh, dose.'' He looked at the scars as if it was the first time he saw them. ''Guess he wanted to make Cajun haggis, non?'' he grinned.
''What happened?''
''Nothin' much. His path cross mine, his claws crossed m' stomach. Shit happens.'' He said casually. '' Lemme take a look at de bike.''
Logan didn't like the way the kid acted one bit. But he decided not to continue asking about Sabertooth. For now. ''We'll need to weld those, kid. In the cabinet by the...''
'' No need, mon ami. I got m' hands right here.'' Remy's hand glowed as he worked on the bike.
''Useful.''
''An' dey're a build in cigarette lighter too. Y' got a knife or somethin'?''
''You have a lighter I have a can opener.'' Logan said as he extended one of his claws and cut the wire that needed cutting.
Remy laughed. ''Makes a body wonder why people are scared mutants. We're just a bunch o' can openers and cigarette lighters...Dere, she good t' go now.'' Logan nodded approvingly and even managed a bit of a smile-like facial expression as he looked up. At that very point in time his face turned into his usual glower. Make that worse than his usual glower. Much worse. ''Is that _my_ whiskey?'' He growled pointing at the bottle of whiskey and the half empty glass.
''Might be. Well, gotta go check on Bishop. Bye.'' Quicker than lighting the Cajun took the glass and left the garage.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
Remy entered the kitchen and found Jean and Scott there, kissing.
''Hey! Get a room will y'!'' He covered his eyes with his arm while walking to the fridge. ''I'm under aged y' know.'' He took a sip of the whiskey.
''Right...'' Scott started when Xavier's voice resonated in the kitchen.
''Everyone, please gather in the War-room.''
Xavier had called in yet another meeting. If Bishop was right, a group called the FOH should be formed shortly. Maybe they could prevent that from happening. He desperately hoped they could. Everyday they failed in preventing the future from happening was a day closer to Gambit's supposed betrayal. He could feel Bishop's determination in not letting that happen. They had to stop the FOH from forming before Bishop lost trust in their competence and killed Remy despite of his obvious doubts, considering that Remy will be the man he had called father.
He stopped his trail of thoughts and paid attention to what Bishop was saying.
''...The man on the television was the FOH leader.''
''I have seen him before. His name is Robert Kramer.'' Xavier remembered.
Remy's thoughts went in berserker mode. ~ Robert Kramer. Robert Kramer. Damn, I know him from somethin'. Gotta remember, come on, you Korsakov indulged brain. Think.~
''I remember only what I've heard from old stories told. He always appeared to be a concerned citizen. After convincing the president, he secretly started the FOH. Their connections didn't become apparent until after his death, when it became very apparent that he was _not_ just a concerned citizen.''
''But we do know he's connected now. We have an advantage.'' Evan pointed out.
''If Kramer connected to the FOH somehow, he has to have files, notes or an agenda or something about it somewhere.'' Scott gathered.
''Dat's a great plan. I could get into his house an'...'' Remy saw the look on Scott's face and smiled '' ...'commandeer' dose files f'r y', easy.''
''We can't risk being caught, Gambit. It would make mutants look worse.'' Xavier warned.
''Dat's why y'let _me_ do it. Den dere is no risk o' bein' caught.''
''You think very highly of yourself.''
''Dat's what a life time o' practice does to a body. It gets confident. It should. It's good.''
''A life time?'' Rogue asked.
''I kinda grew into it. Now will y' let me get de files f'r y' or are y' gonna get all Mr. Morality on m'? ''
''You will go, but not alone. We cannot risk losing you out of sight.'' Xavier didn't want to believe Gambit would betray them, but he didn't want to provoke any situation to suspect him either.
''I get it. But Bishop can' come.'' He looked over at Bishop. ''No 'fence cher, but dese things need a subtle touch, and y'r just...not.''
This was Rogue's chance. If she would volunteer for the job, she might get to know the Cajun a bit better. ~That would be nice.~ She opened her mouth to speak.
''Jean will accompany you.'' Xavier said. ''That way if anything is amiss she will be able to report to us immideatly, mentally.''
~Damn. And with Jean of all people. Damn.~
''Fine. 'S long as y' stay behind m', an' don' do anythin' stupid, fine. Now, were does de man live?''
''I have the address right here.'' Beast pointed at the computer screen. Remy walked over to him.
''Dat's his house?'' he whistled. ''Nice.''
''Just remember your mission when you're there.'' Scott accused.
''Don' worry, 'f I see anythin' I like, I'll go back when everythin' is over.'' He directed himself to Jean and spoke seriously. ''Wear y'r uniform, I don' want loose clothes messin' 'round. I'm gonna see 'f I can find out 'bout de man's security system. Make de job a lot easier. We leave at two a.m. I have no idea how long it will take,'' and then he spoke directed mainly to Scott and Logan ''but better no one wake me up tomorrow mornin' at seven f'r Danger room practice. Come on, Bishop, we're gonna go to town, maybe I'll get y' a nice candy bar. See y' tonight, chere.''
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
Remy had gathered as much information he could find about the Kramer Residence security system. Not much. He knew the man was paranoid enough to install a very broad system. He had put on his old Thieves suit and walked down the stairs, meeting the people gathered downstairs. Evan, because he couldn't sleep. Scott, because he felt he should, being team-leader and all. Xavier, because he wanted to make some last remarks. Logan, because, well, because he was Logan. Bishop, for obvious reasons. And of course Jean.
Evan was the first to remark his outfit.
''Dude. It's...pink.'' He said in disgust.
''It's _magenta_, blue and black.'' Remy corrected.
''Right, Pinky.'' He snickered.
Remy ignored the comment and put on his trench coat.
''Do you go anywhere without that stupid coat?''
''It goes wid de outfit. Y' don' like it? Y' can go stuff y'r boot up y'r...''
''Okay, Gambit. I'm ready to go.'' Jean interrupted.
Xavier gave some last instruction that Remy ignored completely and they were good to go.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
Jean walked behind Remy in one of the mansion's corridors. She could barely see anything, so she had to trust Gambit to know what he was doing. Which seemed to be the case. Nothing bad had yet happened. "This seems awfully easy." It was true. Everything had gone well. They had suavely entered the mansion.
"Or maybe we're just too good f'r words." He looked back at her and raised an eyebrow.
''I just don't trust it.''
''Why? Cos we still haven't come across shooting lasers, wild three-headed dogs and raging humanoid robots?'' He shook his head and sighed ''Chere, y' spend to much time at de Danger Room.'' He took a card from one of his trench coat's pockets and charged it to create a bit of light. At that point Jean started wondering why she had to wear her tight uniform while Gambit's wore that loose trench coat of his. Knowing the Cajun she was starting to get a sneaking suspicion the reasons were less than completely professional. ~That damned Cajun with his infuriating...~ Her trail of thoughts was interrupted as she bumped into him. ''Hey, what are you stopping for?''
He walked toward the vase on the dressior. ''Shh.'' He motioned her.
He paused for a second and investigated the vase. ''Nevermind. It be fake. Let's move.''
She rolled her eyes. ''Can we stick to the mission, please.''
''Stop.'' He said suddenly. She gave him an odd look. He pointed to the floor. ''Infrared.''
''Great. Shall we check out other rooms first?''
''Non. Dat room at de end o' dis here hall gotta be it. Y'don'put infrared systems round de house for fun. Dat place got somethin'.''
''How do you plan on getting there?''
''Jus' sit back an' enjoy de show, chere. Dis Cajun has some tricks up his sleeve.''
Gambit took out his bo-staff and jumped over the infrared via a cabinet to the other side. Normal human beings were not supposed to be able to make that jump so fast and so subtle, Jean noted. Gambit opened the locked door with little effort and within seconds he came out again.
''Clear. Y' can come here now.''
Jean entered the room. They searched for about thirty minutes.
''Damn. Can' find nothin'. Dere no hard copies. Well have t'hack de computer.''
''You can do that?''
''Sort of.''
''What do you mean, sort of?''
''I can do it.''
''Well, go on then.''
He turned the computer on. Instantly a message appeared on the screen.
''Enter password. 1.'' Remy read as he stared at the screen. And stared, and stared.
''Well, Are you going to enter it with your eyes or are you going to do something about it?''
''Eh? Yeah, sure...Ah, here, press F1 for help.'' He pressed F1.
''What are you doing?'' Jean did not believe this.
''What? So I was never very good at dis. Maybe I skipped one too many classes.''
''I don't believe this. You're supposed to be a great thief and you can't even hack Windows?''
''Shut up, alright. Lemme think.''
After about an hour of what his father would have called 'Hacking for Dummies', Remy found the files and the agenda they were looking for.
''Have you got it or should I order breakfast?''
''Got it.''
''Finally.''
''Hey, I don' see you doin' anythin'.''
She rolled her eyes for the umpteenth time that night. ''Come on, lets get out of here...''
''Jus' a minute, chere.''
''What now?''
''Merde.''
She looked at the screen. ''No. Please say it isn't so. You're playing 'Hearts'?'' She looked more closely. ''You're loosing a game of 'Hearts'?'' She couldn't help but laugh.
''Shut up. I can' think like dis.'' He cursed in despair and pressed a few more buttons on the keyboard. ''Ha. I win.'' He looked at Jean who didn't know how or where to look. ''What? 'F y' can' beat dem, cheat.''
**************************************
A/N: Well, that was it for this week. I hope it's a bit clear, chapter wise. I might be a bit slower in updating the next two weeks because what with Christmas an New Year and all. So Merry Christmas and/or Happy Holidays and/or a Happy New Year. (I can't get more politically correct than that.)
On next: Will our heroes be able to prevent the FOH from forming? Will our heroes save the day? Will I ever stop laughing at the trailer from the new Pixar movie 'The Incredibles'? No. (You must go see it. You really must.)
Review or I'll include Britney Spears in my story…