Disclaimer: I do not own the X-Men
A/N: Warning- original character approaching! Anybody left? Cool, good for you! Brief fic about growing up a mutant when you can't control your powers, growing up an orphan when you made yourself that way, growing up a thief with a certain Cajun for a tutor... Growing up in Paris, amongst other places, with other kids from humble neighbourhoods who are more bad than good! Title and chapter title taken from Pink's 'Humble neighbourhoods'. For those of you who've followed mine and Corrinth's joint timeline, this is an early one, set right after my 'the Fire and the Thief'.
Humble neighbourhoods
01: We don't wanna go home
The redheaded sixteen-year-old teenager slipped between the pressing crowds with relative ease, eyes glancing from handbag to back pocket to... Ah, fat juicy wallet... Her small hand took the prize with no effort, the victim of her slight-of-hand completely oblivious. The wallet disappeared as quickly as she had picked it up, in her own pocket without so much as a glance to see if she had been seen. She knew she hadn't, some parts of thieving she might be relatively new to, but others she'd long been forced to adapt to survive. Lets face it; nobody else was going to watch out for her, a mutant, and a murderer...
Big brown eyes sparkling at this new and dangerous world she found herself in, she wondered if the music resounding through the club was loud enough to deafen her? The lights danced off those around her, making their movements as they danced disjointed and bizarre. She tossed her ponytail of troublesome thick red curls back over her shoulder, toying with the idea of going dancing herself. But no, disappearing off would only irritate him, and she needed him. He was offering to teach her how to survive, to fend for herself now she had no one to do it for her. In return, this lovely wallet she'd 'found' would go straight to him for him to decide his cut, much as that stank.
He cut across her path, almost nonchalantly, not even making eye contact, but she knew she had to follow him. He was irritatingly good at making sure they weren't being watched or followed, judged their own security as important as the work they did. Blaze, the English apprentice, supposed he had a point, but she'd have found it easier to understand if he hadn't been just eighteen months older than her, and of course, if he wasn't an American. Unfortunately, he was both.
Blaze's hands lodged themselves on her hips as he frowned at her in a quieter corner of the club. Was he going to tell her off again? Stupid question. She'd been his apprentice for about five minutes, or however long it took for them to make it from Paris where the police were on his tail, to Berlin and the wonders of the German underworld, but already she knew his disapproval too well. If she hadn't picked up languages so quick, German especially, she had a gut feeling Remy le Beau would have ditched her already. But she had her ways of making herself useful, and her German was now impeccable.
"You even think 'bout that?" He asked, pointing to the wallet in her back pocket. "Or it just too easy for you?"
"What's there to think about?" Blaze replied, pouting. "It was there, so I took it. It'll pay for a round at least."
"How much?" He asked, raising an eyebrow questioningly. One day, Blaze swore, she'd get used to those weird red-irises-on-black-whites eyes of his. They freaked her out completely. She fished the wallet out and opened it, scanning through the contents quickly.
"Thirty-five, and some girl's phone number on a post-it note. Lovely."
"T'irty-five euros?" The mutant known as Gambit scoffed. "It gone in one round, then what? You go take another? An' another? How long 'til the cops show up coz of all the pick pocketin'?"
"And I'm sure you've done much better." Blaze answered sarcastically. "You got X-ray vision or something?"
"Non, Petite." He shrugged arrogantly, knowing it irritated her to be called Petite. If she was over-conscious of anything, it was her height. She wasn't even all that short, not really, but she certainly didn't like having to look up to Gambit in any way. "But I don't walk about lookin' at pockets, jus' those with 'em." He opened up a wallet of his own stealing, revealing literally fistfuls of notes. "Tourist, male, single, or at least that how he want his li'l friend to see him. His wife he don't wanna know what he spent his money on, so lots of cash."
"What do you want me to say, Gambit?" Blaze replied shortly, hiding her annoyance at herself behind her hot words. "You've been doing this a lot longer than me..."
"Don't worry Chere, this child's play." He consoled her, grinning. Blaze rolled her eyes disapprovingly. "You just need to make yourself at home...An' maybe get some new gear..."
"What's wrong with my clothes, Cajun?" Blaze snapped aggressively, not appreciating his opinion one bit. "I'm your apprentice remember, not one of your trampy girlfriends."
"Hey, easy Chere!" Gambit laughed. "I don't know what you English kids do for fun, maybe shirts an' jeans the in t'ing!" Self-consciously Blaze glanced down at herself, black shirt over dark blue jeans and black strappy shoes, she'd thought she looked okay. But then again, looking about, she decided he might have a point. Definitely overdressed for this dive. Despairing she turned her back on him and left him with both wallets, heading for the ladies with her mind made up. He thought he knew everything, thought he had her figured right out? Well she'd show him! She didn't know what little daddy's girl he was basing his opinion of English females on, but she'd sure show him...
The ladies' room door crashed shut behind her, the suddenly almost bright lighting a welcome change from the unsteady glow of the dance floor. Make up was easy to come by; she batted her eyelids, scraped and borrowed from the others passing through. Her hair she tore savagely from its ponytail, running wet hands through her troublesome curls until they bounced and glistened, hanging well down her back in a sheen of gold and red. Drying her hands off on her jeans, she pondered what to do with her outfit...
"Your hair suits you better down." A more mature, almost matriarchal voice offered. Blaze turned, coming face to face with possibly the most beautiful young woman she had ever met in her short life in the criminal world. Polished olive skin set against perfect steely grey eyes, the woman's hair was exactly the opposite to Blaze's; sleek, dark grey and straight like molten iron. "But promise me you are not doing this for some guy are you?"
"No way." Blaze retorted. "I'm doing this for me, whatever this is. I don't want to be looked down on..."
"Then you'd best grow a few inches." The tall, lean young woman replied, letting herself down gently from her perch on top of the washstand. Blaze instantly went on the defensive, she wasn't that short, but the stranger was smiling. "Better yet, just get bigger heels. Pain about being this tall, you gotta watch how big your heels get or you look like a jolly giant. Not exactly stylish."
"I've never thought of it that way." Blaze replied thoughtfully, before shaking her head and introducing herself. "I'm Blaze." The stranger frowned for a moment before taking Blaze's proffered hand and replying.
"Mercury."
"You're a mutant?" Blaze asked naively.
"I am." Mercury said slowly. "And by the name you gave, so are you. You might want to learn to be more careful about that in future. Not everyone you'll meet will take well to you using the name 'Blaze'."
"Sorry." Blaze apologised. "I'm new to this."
"No kidding." Mercury smiled again, a smile that lit up her face, made her scarlet nose-piercing glint and her many hooped earrings dance. "You particularly attached to those jeans, or can I dismantle them for you?"
"Go for it." Blaze steeled herself. Her eyes widened in awe as Mercury placed a hand to a hot water tap, the metal of which became a sharp blade that just fitted into the curve of Mercury's long fingers. Now that was how to control your powers...
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Gambit shook his head as Blaze stormed off. She'd cool down soon enough, probably. In the meantime, he had some people to talk to...
His animated discussion with another thief came to an abrupt end when the guy he was talking to suddenly stopped responding, staring across the dance floor. Gambit turned to see what it was the guy was staring at, spotting the problem instantly as his jaw fell open. How could someone so short have legs that long?
Blaze danced easily, knowing that she was good enough to pull the whole thing off. Her loose hair bounced in the strobe lights, long bare legs glistening between her strappy shoes and the torn jeans that were now not much more than hot pants. Her shirt was tied up, revealing her belly button piercing she'd had only a couple of months. It was pretty much all Mercury's idea, but it was exactly what Blaze wanted and she liked it a lot. So did the guys she was suddenly dancing with, as she played off them innocently enough, determined to enjoy herself tonight.
Gambit cut through the crowd professionally, and when the young man closest to Blaze tried to push him away from his apprentice, Remy knocked the loser's lights out. To his surprise, Blaze laughed as he hit the floor, grabbing Gambit's wrist and headed towards the bar, knowing there was no way he'd dance.
"What's so funny, little one?" He asked, leaning on the bar as she ordered the drinks.
"You just did what I'd been thinking about for the past ten minutes! The creep was asking for it! Cheers." She toasted him, and then slammed the vodka back straight. Remy found himself smiling along with her, confused though he was.
"I don't get it, where all this come from?" He indicated to her changed appearance, making Blaze snort her laughter.
"It was here all along, trust me, it was just a little better covered!" Her eyes sparkling wickedly as she tried to explain a little better. "You think I'm some sweet little English princess, all etiquette lessons and drinking tea? Not where I come from! Maybe this is a little more of an extreme neighbourhood than what I'm used to, but not that different... And lets face it, I pull this off so much better than the rest of the women in this dump!"
"I ain't gonna argue with that Cherie..." Gambit grinned, suddenly finding a little more respect for his protégée. "Go have fun," He ordered, "I'll watch your back."
Blaze smiled genuinely, knowing the offer of a night off when she heard one. Tonight, for the first time since she'd killed her parents, she didn't want to go home...
A/N: Warning- original character approaching! Anybody left? Cool, good for you! Brief fic about growing up a mutant when you can't control your powers, growing up an orphan when you made yourself that way, growing up a thief with a certain Cajun for a tutor... Growing up in Paris, amongst other places, with other kids from humble neighbourhoods who are more bad than good! Title and chapter title taken from Pink's 'Humble neighbourhoods'. For those of you who've followed mine and Corrinth's joint timeline, this is an early one, set right after my 'the Fire and the Thief'.
Humble neighbourhoods
01: We don't wanna go home
The redheaded sixteen-year-old teenager slipped between the pressing crowds with relative ease, eyes glancing from handbag to back pocket to... Ah, fat juicy wallet... Her small hand took the prize with no effort, the victim of her slight-of-hand completely oblivious. The wallet disappeared as quickly as she had picked it up, in her own pocket without so much as a glance to see if she had been seen. She knew she hadn't, some parts of thieving she might be relatively new to, but others she'd long been forced to adapt to survive. Lets face it; nobody else was going to watch out for her, a mutant, and a murderer...
Big brown eyes sparkling at this new and dangerous world she found herself in, she wondered if the music resounding through the club was loud enough to deafen her? The lights danced off those around her, making their movements as they danced disjointed and bizarre. She tossed her ponytail of troublesome thick red curls back over her shoulder, toying with the idea of going dancing herself. But no, disappearing off would only irritate him, and she needed him. He was offering to teach her how to survive, to fend for herself now she had no one to do it for her. In return, this lovely wallet she'd 'found' would go straight to him for him to decide his cut, much as that stank.
He cut across her path, almost nonchalantly, not even making eye contact, but she knew she had to follow him. He was irritatingly good at making sure they weren't being watched or followed, judged their own security as important as the work they did. Blaze, the English apprentice, supposed he had a point, but she'd have found it easier to understand if he hadn't been just eighteen months older than her, and of course, if he wasn't an American. Unfortunately, he was both.
Blaze's hands lodged themselves on her hips as he frowned at her in a quieter corner of the club. Was he going to tell her off again? Stupid question. She'd been his apprentice for about five minutes, or however long it took for them to make it from Paris where the police were on his tail, to Berlin and the wonders of the German underworld, but already she knew his disapproval too well. If she hadn't picked up languages so quick, German especially, she had a gut feeling Remy le Beau would have ditched her already. But she had her ways of making herself useful, and her German was now impeccable.
"You even think 'bout that?" He asked, pointing to the wallet in her back pocket. "Or it just too easy for you?"
"What's there to think about?" Blaze replied, pouting. "It was there, so I took it. It'll pay for a round at least."
"How much?" He asked, raising an eyebrow questioningly. One day, Blaze swore, she'd get used to those weird red-irises-on-black-whites eyes of his. They freaked her out completely. She fished the wallet out and opened it, scanning through the contents quickly.
"Thirty-five, and some girl's phone number on a post-it note. Lovely."
"T'irty-five euros?" The mutant known as Gambit scoffed. "It gone in one round, then what? You go take another? An' another? How long 'til the cops show up coz of all the pick pocketin'?"
"And I'm sure you've done much better." Blaze answered sarcastically. "You got X-ray vision or something?"
"Non, Petite." He shrugged arrogantly, knowing it irritated her to be called Petite. If she was over-conscious of anything, it was her height. She wasn't even all that short, not really, but she certainly didn't like having to look up to Gambit in any way. "But I don't walk about lookin' at pockets, jus' those with 'em." He opened up a wallet of his own stealing, revealing literally fistfuls of notes. "Tourist, male, single, or at least that how he want his li'l friend to see him. His wife he don't wanna know what he spent his money on, so lots of cash."
"What do you want me to say, Gambit?" Blaze replied shortly, hiding her annoyance at herself behind her hot words. "You've been doing this a lot longer than me..."
"Don't worry Chere, this child's play." He consoled her, grinning. Blaze rolled her eyes disapprovingly. "You just need to make yourself at home...An' maybe get some new gear..."
"What's wrong with my clothes, Cajun?" Blaze snapped aggressively, not appreciating his opinion one bit. "I'm your apprentice remember, not one of your trampy girlfriends."
"Hey, easy Chere!" Gambit laughed. "I don't know what you English kids do for fun, maybe shirts an' jeans the in t'ing!" Self-consciously Blaze glanced down at herself, black shirt over dark blue jeans and black strappy shoes, she'd thought she looked okay. But then again, looking about, she decided he might have a point. Definitely overdressed for this dive. Despairing she turned her back on him and left him with both wallets, heading for the ladies with her mind made up. He thought he knew everything, thought he had her figured right out? Well she'd show him! She didn't know what little daddy's girl he was basing his opinion of English females on, but she'd sure show him...
The ladies' room door crashed shut behind her, the suddenly almost bright lighting a welcome change from the unsteady glow of the dance floor. Make up was easy to come by; she batted her eyelids, scraped and borrowed from the others passing through. Her hair she tore savagely from its ponytail, running wet hands through her troublesome curls until they bounced and glistened, hanging well down her back in a sheen of gold and red. Drying her hands off on her jeans, she pondered what to do with her outfit...
"Your hair suits you better down." A more mature, almost matriarchal voice offered. Blaze turned, coming face to face with possibly the most beautiful young woman she had ever met in her short life in the criminal world. Polished olive skin set against perfect steely grey eyes, the woman's hair was exactly the opposite to Blaze's; sleek, dark grey and straight like molten iron. "But promise me you are not doing this for some guy are you?"
"No way." Blaze retorted. "I'm doing this for me, whatever this is. I don't want to be looked down on..."
"Then you'd best grow a few inches." The tall, lean young woman replied, letting herself down gently from her perch on top of the washstand. Blaze instantly went on the defensive, she wasn't that short, but the stranger was smiling. "Better yet, just get bigger heels. Pain about being this tall, you gotta watch how big your heels get or you look like a jolly giant. Not exactly stylish."
"I've never thought of it that way." Blaze replied thoughtfully, before shaking her head and introducing herself. "I'm Blaze." The stranger frowned for a moment before taking Blaze's proffered hand and replying.
"Mercury."
"You're a mutant?" Blaze asked naively.
"I am." Mercury said slowly. "And by the name you gave, so are you. You might want to learn to be more careful about that in future. Not everyone you'll meet will take well to you using the name 'Blaze'."
"Sorry." Blaze apologised. "I'm new to this."
"No kidding." Mercury smiled again, a smile that lit up her face, made her scarlet nose-piercing glint and her many hooped earrings dance. "You particularly attached to those jeans, or can I dismantle them for you?"
"Go for it." Blaze steeled herself. Her eyes widened in awe as Mercury placed a hand to a hot water tap, the metal of which became a sharp blade that just fitted into the curve of Mercury's long fingers. Now that was how to control your powers...
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Gambit shook his head as Blaze stormed off. She'd cool down soon enough, probably. In the meantime, he had some people to talk to...
His animated discussion with another thief came to an abrupt end when the guy he was talking to suddenly stopped responding, staring across the dance floor. Gambit turned to see what it was the guy was staring at, spotting the problem instantly as his jaw fell open. How could someone so short have legs that long?
Blaze danced easily, knowing that she was good enough to pull the whole thing off. Her loose hair bounced in the strobe lights, long bare legs glistening between her strappy shoes and the torn jeans that were now not much more than hot pants. Her shirt was tied up, revealing her belly button piercing she'd had only a couple of months. It was pretty much all Mercury's idea, but it was exactly what Blaze wanted and she liked it a lot. So did the guys she was suddenly dancing with, as she played off them innocently enough, determined to enjoy herself tonight.
Gambit cut through the crowd professionally, and when the young man closest to Blaze tried to push him away from his apprentice, Remy knocked the loser's lights out. To his surprise, Blaze laughed as he hit the floor, grabbing Gambit's wrist and headed towards the bar, knowing there was no way he'd dance.
"What's so funny, little one?" He asked, leaning on the bar as she ordered the drinks.
"You just did what I'd been thinking about for the past ten minutes! The creep was asking for it! Cheers." She toasted him, and then slammed the vodka back straight. Remy found himself smiling along with her, confused though he was.
"I don't get it, where all this come from?" He indicated to her changed appearance, making Blaze snort her laughter.
"It was here all along, trust me, it was just a little better covered!" Her eyes sparkling wickedly as she tried to explain a little better. "You think I'm some sweet little English princess, all etiquette lessons and drinking tea? Not where I come from! Maybe this is a little more of an extreme neighbourhood than what I'm used to, but not that different... And lets face it, I pull this off so much better than the rest of the women in this dump!"
"I ain't gonna argue with that Cherie..." Gambit grinned, suddenly finding a little more respect for his protégée. "Go have fun," He ordered, "I'll watch your back."
Blaze smiled genuinely, knowing the offer of a night off when she heard one. Tonight, for the first time since she'd killed her parents, she didn't want to go home...