Disclaimer: Several new characters are mine, including the plot. X-Men belongs to Marvel and Fox.

Araceil: I tend to say his name "Re – may" Sounds more frenchy to me than some of the others I tried. "Re – may Le – be- u" Yeah.. anyway. The Logan/Gambit confrontation was good to write! Very enjoyable. Don't worry; Gambit's going to be involved with a few things yet that will certainly test Logan's temper. And no, he didn't know. Don't forget he has only just arrived, not really got to know any of them yet. It was an accident, just a random insult.

Xcoolcomic: She should do one day, but certainly not yet =P

Chapter 22

Gambit stared at the empty corridor before him, completely baffled at the happenings. He gave a glance to Siren who made a sigh at him, shaking her head gently.

"Oh! What 'as Gambit supposed ta 'ave done now?" he groaned with a gesture of his hands to the heavens.

Siren shook her head some more, "You weren't to know Remy." She turned to face him, "I don't know the full story, and no one probably does. But I was told that he's had a pretty horrific past. Brainwashed by this crazy guy who gave Logan some sort of metal implants to his skeleton. Nasty stuff."

Gambit peered sheepishly over to her, suddenly finding the air become dark and morbid as his mind invented images of what could have happened in this supposed past of Logan's. In an attempt to lighten the mood he shrugged gently, "Could be worse."

Brow rose instantly on Siren's face as she stared at him, "What?"

"Coulda received breast implants instead!"

Siren didn't laugh. She just stared at him. Gambit's crooked grin dropped at her expression and he shrugged helplessly. "You know, this isn't the first time your mouth 'as got you into trouble," murmured Siren with a frown.

"What can I say? I'm gifted!" announced Gambit with a smirk.

"Argh!" then cried Siren, turning from him to follow the path of Logan and Rogue, soon leaving Gambit alone in the corridor to question nothing but the silence.

"What?" he said softly, arms spreading, "Ah, come on.. what?" But Siren was too far-gone to hear.

Charles was still unconscious in his bed as the night swiftly came to take hold, and all the mutants, excluding Logan were sat wearily in the metal chairs, conversation travelling idly around. Michael spoke up after a lengthy silence, his words directed to Siren and Gambit, "So, how come one of you in French and one Cajun?" he asked politely, deciding to bring about a new topic.

Siren looked up slowly, "Remy was born in Louisiana. But our mother had moved to Paris when she gave birth to me. I moved over to New Orleans myself when I was older."

A soft laughter came from Gambit, who was sat with a hot drink, "Haha, Adrienne 'ere was brought up with de croissants and pink poodles whereas ol' Remy got da gumbo and pickpocketers."

A few chuckles passed around the group at his response, though they were tired tones, eyes blinked blearily at each other. As the twelfth hour began to chime from a great clock above them many of the mutants began to lift exhaustedly to exit the infirmary. Storm insisted on remaining in case she was needed, but the weather controlling mutant was looking worse for wear from her busy day of looking after the injured, and she had yet to rest herself from the fight with Gambit. Scott sternly but kindly told her to go to sleep, compromising that he would beep her if he needed any assistance.

So now Scott was sat alone in the silver walled lab, the steady breathing from Charles being his only company. Once alone he quickly began to raid through the cupboards in the wall, searching for something to ease the horrible ache he was experiencing in his swollen jaw. He could still taste blood in his mouth, and sure enough when he peered in a nearby mirror, his lips were freshly coated with a new stream. Muttering curses about a certain mutant he began to serve himself an icepack and a damp cloth. His eyes dropped to his watch idly during the process. Only ten minutes had passed. This was going to be a long night..

Sounds of soft laughter came from further along the corridors. Storm's brow lifted interestedly and she began to head in that direction rather than to her room. She was expecting to find a group of students violating the nine o' clock curfew. However her eyes widened a little in surprise to see Gambit and Aurora stood talking to each other, looking extremely friendly with one another. His smile never left his face, and Aurora's eyes were lit up with a newfound enjoyment. Storm cleared her throat gently, and as expected, Gambit gaze coolly lifted, whilst Aurora jumped.

"Remy, have you got yourself settled in?" Storm asked politely, ignoring the flirtatious scenes she had witnessed.

Gambit grinned widely, placing an arm on Aurora's shoulder, "Settled in wonderfully!"

Storm had to note that Aurora was suddenly looking nervous when he placed his arm on her, "No.. I meant a room."

A soft chuckle came from Gambit, "Maybe I won't be needing a room of my own, heh?" he said softly, leaning in to Aurora who looked like she was ready to collapse on the spot with worry. Storm was just staring in horror at her.

"Aurora has her room beside Wolverine's," said Storm dryly, eyes flashing back to Aurora, empathising Logan's name.

"I supposed to be scared o' dat brute?" asked Gambit with a smirk.

"I have a feeling Logan might not be too pleased with you being in the same room as his girlfriend, never mind the same bed," Storm said, keeping her tone placid but there was certain sarcasm on her tone that did not suit the caring woman at all.

Gambits face had suddenly lost his smile, "Ya what? Louisa? Ya go out with that beast?"

A sheepish nod came from Aurora who had decided the floor was the best place for her eyes. Also, underneath it was where she would like to disappear to right now.

"Funny, I would have expected that to be the first information to leave a woman's lips when you get a single stranger throwing themselves at you." Storm continued in that distinctly calm but bitter tone.

Aurora now lifted her eyes to Storm, brow lowering, "He wasn't throwing himself at me."

Hands went upon Storm's hips and she gave the pair a sceptical look with her head tilted and eyes narrowed. Aurora lowered herself so Gambit's arm left her and she quickly stepped around Storm to return to her room, alone. Storm watched her leave before turning her eyes on Gambit with a frown, "Remy, I'd appreciate it if you would show some respect for the mutants at this school."

"Stormy, I be sorry. Gambit didn't know, she seemed fine with my company!"

"That's what I was worried about," said Storm quietly as she turned, "Logan doesn't need any more heartache," she then added in a soft tone, missed by Gambit. She took a few steps before looking to him, "Are you coming, Remy?"

"For what?"

"Surely you need a bed to sleep in? Floors aren't that comfortable, Remy."

"Oh.. alright. Lead the way Stormy." Gambit said with a grin, moving over to her.

Storm lifted her gaze a little, brow tilting, "I'd prefer Ororo."

"Whatever you say, chere."

Storm and Gambit reached a small corridor to the west of the building a few minutes later and Storm gestured her hand down the lighted walkway, "You go choose a room, I'll go find you some nightwear and a clean towel for you." Gambit replied with a small nod, watching over his shoulder as he watched the African mutant leave back around the corner. He set off walking down the middle of the corridor, arms shifting as he pulled his brown trench coat off and draped it over a shoulder casually. Not being particularly fussy he went for a random room and pushed open the door gently, flicking on the light.

Inside was a lush emerald carpet, dark oak furnishings lining the wooden walls of the room. A large double bed sat to his left, covered by a lusciously thick quilted duvet of cream. He stepped in slightly before his eye caught something on the bed. Before he managed to look fully down he heard Storm follow him in with a small pile in her arms, "Oh.." she murmured as she looked around the room, "This is Kurt's room.."

Gambit raised a brow as he glanced back to her. He hadn't come across this Kurt yet. He stepped forward in the room, now seeing what it was on the bed. It was an elaborate outfit from some sort of circus show. Sequins and textures of material were crafted to make a sparkling coat, then a small leather waistcoat within, before finally draping down off the bed were a pair of brightly striped trousers. Gambit surveyed the fashion of the attire with a decided shock before giving a small smirk and looking to Storm, "He's not much of a fashion follower, eh?"

Storm gripped the towels tighter, staring at the man with a tense silence before her lips finally moved, "He's dead," she managed to reply, her usual confident tone now only a weakened murmur.

Gambit made a visible wince, lowering his head to shut his eyes tightly, "Damnit," he cursed, "I just keep messin' up badly." Gambit finally looked back to her, and he was relieved to see warmth back in her eyes, "I'm sorry, Stormy. I didn't know."

"It's ok," she muttered, stepping forth to look down at the Nightcrawler's outfit. Of course, when they had all ran from the mansion all those months ago, they had only got their nightwear. And once Storm returned, she somehow found it appropriate to return Kurt's freshly washed clothes back into his room, and lay them out neatly like she always did every week she washed them. And she would love to see the smile his face was given at such a simple task she did for him. The clothes had been left on the bed untouched for a good number of months, as if he had only disappeared on holiday, and was due back any time.

Storm broke out of her thoughts when she felt a warm hand on her shoulder, and she turned suddenly, for some mad reason expecting to see Kurt here with his words of thanks for her task. But it wasn't, it was Gambit, and his devil eyes glowed brightly in the dim light of the room, "Come on, chere. Don't be getting yourself upset before bedtime, it'll only unsettle ya sleep."

A small nod came from Storm in agreement, and she blinked her eyes a little to stop any tears that were daring to break forth, "You're right.." she whispered before turning to look at him, "Kurt was a wonderful man."

"Did he die in London?"

"How do you know about the England trip?"

"Chere, word got round mutants so fast about da brave X-Men it was impossible to not hear."

Storm nodded her head, "Yes.. it was in London."

"So he died a noble death during a fight to save the world of mutants. Always think that."

"But he didn't," muttered Storm quietly, "He received his death because he accidentally killed another innocent one." Her head lowered gently and she left the room, the light being promptly turned off, to leave Gambit looking at the empty room in the darkness with a soft sigh.

A sleepy grunt was sounded as Scott found his head drooping slightly. His eyes suddenly reopened and he peered around the room then at Charles. There was still no change. Scott sighed quietly before he looked down to the icepack his hand had been holding as he replaced it to his jaw with a small wince. A hand felt his shirt pocket gently and he pulled out his ruby quartz glasses. He hadn't yet changed from his visor since he returned from the mission. With his eyes tightly closed he tugged off the straight visor and pushed the glasses up his nose. His eyes blinked a little with tiredness behind the special lens and he peered down to the cloth that was still sat in a bowl of water. Scott dropped the ice pack down and lifted the cloth to dab at his swollen lip. Finding too much water in the cloth he squeezed it out over the bowl. He made a nervous sort of chuckle to himself as he wondered over what Logan would do seeing him now, tending and nursing his wounds. No doubt a few mocking snorts would be sent his way. But as Scott lowered the cloth back to the bowl to cleanse it he stubbornly replied to his inner argument that Logan could heal and therefore didn't understand lasting psychical pain.

The cloth was bobbed up and down in the water bowl idly a moment before Scott lifted it to squeeze out of the water. Suddenly the doors of the infirmary came to life. Scott suffered such a shock of thinking it could be Logan that his hands knocked the bowl and ice cold water capsized into his lap. With a yelp he immediately stood up, whirling round to glare at the supposed Wolverine. It wasn't Logan, it was Siren, and she looked rather worried at his actions.

"Scott? Are you alright there?"

"Yes, I'm fine," he snapped, tiny drops of blood flying off his tongue, "Why are you back here anyway?" He felt particularly peeved to have been caught with his soothing injury methods. With a self-healing man in the mansion, it was hard to live up to a fearless image. He was also annoyed to now have freezing cold water soaking into his stomach and thighs. Very uncomfortable, and as far as he was concerned, a horrific place to spill water.

"Night's going rather sleepless. Came here for a bit of company." She then watched him, "Or I can stay here whilst you go sleep? I don't mind."

Scott quickly strode over the room, grabbing a towel to start dabbing his clothes with, "No, I'm alright. I want to stay with him," he insisted.

The usual sounds of heels were no longer present as Siren dropped to sit in one of the seats. Of course, at 1am she was now in a nightdress, and in bare feet. Scott moved back to sit in his own seat beside her, leaving the towel draped cautiously over his wet lap. Siren however gave him a polite smile, showing no mockery at the situation. Accidents did happen, "I apologise for making you jump, Scott."

"I didn't jump," declared Scott defensively.

"Oh? Well, whatever I made you do," continued Siren with a small smile. Scott was always the one to try and keep his pride. One of the rare things he had in common with Logan.

With Siren sat bang next to him, he refused to sit fussing over his injuries and instead stared resolutely at Charles. Siren however saw certain need for his sensible equipment. His jaw had swelled up rather dramatically, and his lips were still permitting blood. A small cut was on his cheek also. Scott stubbornly ignored the trail of blood seeping out of his mouth, coming at quite a pace without the constant dabbing of his cloth. Siren grimaced a little before poking Scott gently, "Uh Scott.. you have.. er.." she gestured to her mouth to indicate.

"What?" asked Scott in a garbled tone. The blood tasted really quite vile, but he wasn't go to show that!

"Your mouth. It's bleeding," stated Siren with a small blink.

"I know," replied Scott with a bob of his head calmly.

Siren's eyes narrowed suspiciously, looking to the cloth that was now sat in an empty bowl, droplets of blood marking it. She saw serious need for cleaning, and if he wasn't going to let his image slip and look after himself. She was! Scott's eyes dropped when he saw a bare hand shoot out in front of him to grab the cloth from the bowl. It was still damp and perfectly fine to use. Scott's head had followed her actions, and whilst his head was turned to her, she quickly lifted her hand to press it to the running blood and his bruised jaw at the same time.

A wobbly sort of groan came from Scott at the surprising touch of that freezing cold cloth. That and the surprise of her actions.. and of how close that deadly skin of hers was to his. "Really! You should be able to tend to yourself," Siren scolded playfully, knowing full well that he had been doing.

Scott made a small grin at her, despite the horrible pain he suffered in his face when he did. Who cares? If Siren made him smile, he was going to damn well smile!

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