Disclaimer: Damnit! I STILL don't own the X-men, blah, blah, blah, you know the drill.
Gambit on a Hot Tin Roof
The early autumn air was chillier than Remy had anticipated. His breath formed a cloud in front of his face with each exhale, a testament to the fact that he wasn't in Kansas anymore… and he definitely wasn't in New Orleans.
He had left his home a little over four months ago, traveling west through the southern belt. As he had met more and more mutants, he began to hear whispers of a place. A haven for young mutants. Those whispers became the wind which carried him here - to Westchester.
Standing in front of the iron wrought gates, his only possession clutched around him for warmth, he stared at the sign proclaiming this to be Xavier's School for the Gifted. Clearly he was in the wrong place. Remy squinted into the gloom which had fallen with the twilight, and looked up at the tall pinnacles with skepticism on his face. This place was huge. And it just oozed wealth…
Oh well, he thought, might as well get some profit out of this waste of time.
In an instant, Remy was over the gate, his nimble fingers and strong legs having no trouble getting over them. He could have found some way to short circuit the fuse box which controlled them, but hey, why leave a trail, right?
As the night became darker and darker, Remy became quieter and quieter. His feet so light on the ground, you would think he was floating. Up ahead, the main building structure loomed. With his enhanced vision he could see on the side of the building, ivy vines and leaves. Lots of them, going pretty high up the manor's side wall. Remy grinned - as a matter of fact, they went all the way up to the roof.
" 'Dis be too easy," he muttered "it almos' don' seem fair." He found his way to the easiest patch of ivy to climb.
The wall was fun to scale, and Gambit got to it like only a master thief could, his movements graceful and sure, his breathing coming slow and easily. Too often in the movies he had seen, did thieves rely on gadgets to get them through, Truth is, all you really need are your wits, a smile, and every once in a while an ivy-covered wall.
At the top Gambit pulled himself up, and gracefully rolled to his feet. Right in front of a short, cigar smoking, strong man. Gambit could tell he was strong, because as soon as he got up, the man's free hand shot out, and grabbed Gambit by the throat, lifting him off the roof a couple of inches.
"Hiya, bub. You lost?" The man growled.
Sorry it's kinda short, but hey - genius can't be rushed right? RIGHT!?! Thanks to the all of two people who reviewed, I appreciate the support. Keep it coming, hehe eye twitches keep it coming. So, to those two people - Ishandahaf, and Pyro Lady, here it is. Or there it was. Whatever.