Title: Long Way Down
Authors: M/G & B/C
Rating: G – this chapter's vanilla
Disclaimer: I'm just a little kid playing with dollies - no profit to be had. So don't sue me: I'm cute.
Author's Note: This is part 5 of an 8 part story. After this point, I cannot guarantee the regularity of the final postings. I'm rather busy, you know!
Jean stared at the five cards that she had just been dealt.
"Dis 'ere is an ol' Cajun car' game Gambit use' t'play. It call' Boureé," he explained in his lilting voice. "We use' t'put up an ante, but you jus' learnin', so..."
Scott, sitting next to Jean, positioned his cards, arranging them by suit. To the left of Gambit, Wolverine stared dumbly at his hand. He looked lost. Jean couldn't figure out why Wolverine had decided to play with them when Gambit suggested it, but she was pleased that he did.
They had all just finished eating their dinner. Jean was delighted by the fact that Gambit had dined with them. He'd even engaged in conversation, telling the bewildered X-Men how he used to catch crayfish. And after he helped Jean with the dishes, he offered to teach them a new card game. Scott naturally teamed up with Jean, but Gambit needed a partner. He asked Wolverine, who had unenthusiastically agreed, though he more than once tried to convince the group to just play poker instead.
Gambit flipped the top card of the deck onto the table. It was the Ace of Spades.
"Well, well," he chirped. "Now, see, spades is da' trum'."
Jean tried to suppress a smile after she figured out that he was trying to say 'trump'. She had never heard Gambit talk this much and was just now learning his unique brand of English.
"Now, Wolverine, you hav'ta' say if you wan' play," Gambit said.
Wolverine scratched his head. "Uh..."
Gambit leaned over, looking at his cards. He pointed one of his thin fingers at a nine of spades.
"Yeah, you wan' play."
"All right."
Scott sighed. "I'll pass."
Gambit nodded. "Moi aussi. Gambit 'ave t'pass, too."
Jean had a three of spades. "Sure, I'm in."
"Now, Wolverine, 'ow many car's you wan'?" Gambit asked, silently mouthing 'one' to him with a conspiratorial grin.
"Um, one." Wolverine grunted.
"I'll take one, too," Jean called.
Gambit gave them each a card and peered over to look at Wolverine's. "Oh, you lucky." Wolverine had drawn a four of spades. "Y'ave two trum's. Wha' you got, Jeanne?"
"Still just one." She showed him her hand.
"Wolverine an' Gambit win! Nice work, ami."
'Ami'? Jean didn't have to search through her limited French vocabulary for long before she found the translation.
Friend. He called Logan his friend
She smiled at the discovery.
The group played a few more hands until they were tired of the somewhat dull game. They all agreed that it was time for bed, anyway.
"G'ni't. O' as we say en Français, Bonne nuit," Gambit said, on his way up the stairs.
Jean smiled. Not because she particularly cared how to say 'good night' in French, but because Gambit seemed to be warming up to them. After all these years of partnership, it seemed like he now thought of them as...
...well, partners.
Jean stretched and went up to her room, pondering the strange traits of this new Gambit.
She awoke the next morning to the sound of children's laughter. Jean rolled out of her bed and walked to the window, opening the blinds. She squinted in the harsh morning sunlight that reflected off of the snow, but soon saw Gambit chasing some of the children up a small hill behind the mansion. They all carried sleds to the top and rode them down the slope.
Jean laughed as Gambit attempted to sled down the mound, but fell out and tumbled all the way to the bottom. The children ran after him and jumped on him, sending great plumes of snow into the air. She could hear his muffled laughter through the window. She had never expected to hear Gambit laugh. It was nice.
She got dressed and went downstairs to make breakfast. From the kitchen, she heard Gambit and the kids enter. She poked her head out to greet him.
"Good morning, Gambit. What is that? Bonne...?"
"Bonne matin," Gambit said.
Jean repeated the words.
"But yo' accen'...You jus' stick t'English, chère," Gambit said, with a smile.
Jean chuckled. "Are you going to want some breakfast?" she asked the Cajun.
"Oh, I dunno. We see. But t'anks."
With that, he gracefully ran up the stairs to his room.
Once the overwhelming scent of eggs and bacon wafted through the mansion, the mutants started to arrive. Beast walked into the kitchen, followed by Wolverine.
"Ah, breakfast," Beast cooed. "Of course, you all know that it's the single most important meal of the day. Your body needs to replenish the calories and nutrients you burn off while sleeping and it must be-"
Wolverine rose a hand to cut him off, a faint smile on his lips. "Thanks, doc."
Beast chuckled heartily, grabbing a plate of fluffy yellow eggs and crisp bacon. "Thank you very much, Jean. It looks delectable."
Jean smiled. "The eggs are just how you like them, Hank. Enjoy."
"I'm sure I will." He flashed her a toothy grin and sat down at the table next to Cyclops who had already begun to eat.
"Are you going to eat with us, Logan?" she asked as Wolverine approached her.
"Naw, I was just gonna go upstairs with it," he explained.
"Oh, all right. Um...do you know if Gambit is going to come down?"
"I don't think so," Wolverine responded.
Jean nodded, slightly disappointed.
Wolverine grabbed two steaming plates, then gave her a dismissive shrug as he backed out of the saloon doors, arms rigidly holding the dishes in front of him.
"See ya later," Wolverine called on his way out.
Jean lowered her eyebrows in confusion.
He must be hungry.
But then it dawned on her.
Oh. Right. 'Ami'.
The alarm buzzed and the room turned dark. The group cautiously paced through the debris strewn across the deserted street. Gambit's eyes cut through the darkness and he could see everything. He warned the blinded mutants of objects in their path and navigated them through the maze of garbage. A deafening crash erupted in front of them and the lights turned on.
"Merde," cursed Gambit, rubbing his eyes; it took longer for him to adjust from darkness to light.
The creature in front of the X-Men roared, the sound reverberating all around them. A 15-foot tall monster broke through the asphalt street and stepped into full view. The creature was green, speckled brown, and had a long snout with an overbite, exposing razor-sharp fangs. It raised one of its clawed hands and swatted at the mutants.
Cyclops, Wolverine and Jean jumped out of the way and the grotesque fist crashed into the street. Beast hopped onto the limb and ran to the behemoth's head. He latched onto the two antennae that sprouted from its crown. A hard tug earned an agonized shriek from the creature.
Still writhing, trying to throw off its tormentor, the monster's tail slithered up behind Beast. Gambit saw it and shouted at Beast to look out. Beast spun around, seeing the tail, and jumped off just as it swiped past him.
"Thanks, friend!" Beast yelled.
"De rien."
The monster's tail swung at the X-Men again, this time making a wide sweep at knee level. Wolverine tried to approach but was knocked down with a grunt. Rogue, too, was felled when the creature snapped its tail like a whip, successfully protecting itself from the flying mutant Gambit leaped over the thrashing tail like a jump rope several times without concern. Suddenly his face brightened.
"Gambit got an idea!" he shouted. "Wolverine, Ah'll distract it an' you take care o' dat tail!"
"You got it, Gumbo."
The young Acadian pulled his staff from inside his long coat and ran at the monster, extending the bo at the last moment to vault himself right past the creature's eyes. He turned in midair, landing on the far side of the room and finding, to his delight, that he had his enemy's full attention. Without missing a beat, the Cajun jumped the monster's sweeping claw, then thrust a gloved hand into his inside jacket pocket and threw a handful of burning cards at its snarling mouth. The explosion hid the creature's face, but didn't silence the agonized growl emanating from the cloud of smoke.
"Now!"
Wolverine rushed around to the back of the monster and unsheathed his claws.
"Time to slice and dice," he hissed through clenched teeth. He brought his claws down into the monster's realistic hide. He made a clean cut and the tail fell off. The creature screamed.
Gambit yelled in triumph. "Now, Rogue, you go an' hol' him still so Cyclops can take care a' him."
Rogue flew behind the monster and held onto one of the spikes jutting from its back. It began to thrash wildly. Cyclops placed a hand on his visor.
"C'mon, sugah!" she called. "Ah ain't gettin' any younger!"
"Here we go!" he yelled.
A red beam shot from his eyes, filling the street scene with a blinding light. The energy beam hit the monster in the face and, with one last growl, it fell over. The team clapped and cheered. The holographic creature and setting melted away.
"Well done, X-Men!" Xavier exclaimed over the intercom. The team looked through a window near the top of the room and saw him clapping. "Gambit, your leadership and initiative have most certainly improved. That is probably what made this exercise a success."
Gambit blushed and thanked the Professor.
Jean frowned.
He definitely wouldn't have taken charge like that a week ago.
The team ordered a dozen pizzas to celebrate their day in the Danger Room. After it arrived, they took it into the living room and talked about the tactics they used in the exercise.
"So, what made you think of that Gambit? Distracting the monster like that?" Jean asked him.
"Oh, oui, one time, Ah was rowin' down the bayou in a li'l boa' and dis' big ol' gator, must'a been twelve fee' long, jumped up outta da water an' into my boa'. I had ta get 'im out 'bu he wouldn't le' me near 'im. So, I grabbed an oar and smacked 'is tail. He spun around an' bit 'da oar and den Gambit jump' on top of 'im and threw 'im back in 'da water."
Jean sat back with a slice of pizza and listened to the rest of the men boasting, trying to beat the Cajun's adventurous tale.
I don't know what has made him act this way, but I hope he lets us in on his secret soon.
Wolverine mounted the stairs slowly, taking especial care not to spill the contents of the heavily laden tray. He focused his attention on a tall glass of orange juice, full to the brim and threatening to overflow with the slightest imbalance. He smirked wryly at the thought of such a dangerous domestic mishap.
But not one second later, he missed a step and stubbed a bare toe against the hard mahogany. Wolverine cursed loudly, once for his throbbing toe, and again for the orange juice soaking his hand and sleeve.
"Everything all right, Logan?" Jean called sweetly from the kitchen.
"Oh, just fine," Wolverine growled in reply, and continued up the staircase, taking care not to slip in the puddle of orange juice.
He heard Gambit's muffled laughter from inside his room and felt his face growing red. Still, Wolverine couldn't help but smile. He enjoyed his daily breakfast with the young mutant; he found himself anxiously anticipating the comfort of the warm bright room and Gambit's cheerful smile as he chattered and told stories as though he had just yesterday been a boisterous young boy in the bayou.
Logan was still grinning as he pushed open Gambit's door with his foot, moving slowly to keep his balance with the breakfast tray.
"Soun's like you 'ad ta fight for breakfast today, non?"
Logan grunted an answer and kicked the door shut. Turning into the room, he found it impossible to maintain a petulant face. Gambit was sitting on the floor in his black silk pajamas, casually reclined against the wall with his legs askew, somehow managing to make the unforgiving wood seem comfortable. His red eyes danced and a knowing smile played at the corners of his mouth.
"Well, not alluv us get our grub brought in on a silver platter, Gumbo."
"An' not all of us is fool enough to play garçon at 8 o'clock in da mornin'."
"Ya wanna deal with them idiots in the kitchen, be my guest. Just watch the stairs. Slippery when wet, ya know."
"Denn if Gambit fall an break 'is leg, you 'afta take care of 'im, non?"
Wolverine raised an eyebrow, but Gambit just grinned mischievously.
Is he...flirting with me?
But Gambit didn't give him any time to think. A natural enemy of awkward silences, he immediately dove into the tale of his first day at the Xavier Institute.
"And Cyclops, 'e come out ta da car and shook my 'and like 'e wanted ta break it right off..."
Wolverine tried to concentrate on the story, but he couldn't shake the thought from his mind.
I know he hits on every miniskirt that walks by, but I ain't never heard him talk like that to a guy.
But he hasn't had any close friends around.
But that smile...
But he brushed it all off so damn fast.
But maybe he was just nervous?
Wolverine coughed to hide his laughter at the thought.
Not that I'd mind. It's not like the kid's hard on the eyes, or anything.
Though he's my first friend since...
He picked up a piece of crisp bacon and gnawed it thoughtfully.
...Mariko.
Gambit rambled on, letting his breakfast grow cold, as it did most every morning. Wolverine poked absently at his eggs as he let his gaze drift about the room.
Most of the mutants had taken the time to personalize their plain, dorm-sized chambers: even Wolverine, though always on the road, kept some of his favored relics scattered about the floor and walls. But Gambit's room was as stark and empty as the day he moved in. No nail holes marred the white painted walls, and the morning sun reflected brightly off the bare polished floor. In fact, the few furnishings – a twin bed and small dresser – had never even been taken from their respective corners. If Gambit disappeared, it would be impossible to tell he'd ever been in Westchester.
He's the only thing that keeps my attention in here.
Gambit really did seem to steal the show, whether he was telling a story of his adventurous youth or merely sitting around in his PJs. Even at such an early hour he was captivating: his hair was in stylish disarray and his alien eyes danced as he spoke. His lips parted and closed rapidly, the corners of his mouth slightly turned up in a perpetual half-smile.
No wonder he's such a lady's man. Hell, I'd probably even kiss 'im.
Wolverine smirked as he imagined the awkward scene. A stunned Cajun charging a lamp and hurtling it at him as he scrambled out the door laughing like a maniac. He was so lost in his reverie, he only barely noticed Gambit's voice had trailed off and the melodic patter had stopped.
Wolverine blinked away the visions and saw that the Cajun was staring at him. A grin slowly appeared at the corners of Gambit's mouth over the fifteen seconds of silence. Wolverine straightened his back deliberately and cleared his throat.
"Oui," Logan grunted in mock obligatory response.
Gambit's left eyebrow lowered, and Wolverine gulped.
Aw, crap...
But suddenly, Gambit erupted in laughter, falling on his side and nearly upsetting his breakfast tray.
"Oh, homme, you a-" He giggled again. "You a laugh riot!"
Whew.
The Cajun attempted to compose himself, but one look at Wolverine's perplexed expression set him off again, and Wolverine couldn't help but grin at his merriment. Wiping tears from the corners of his eyes, Gambit finally managed to find his voice.
"But really, Logan, what were you starin' at ole Gambit for? Is dere syrup on my face?"
Confronted by Gambit's smile and mischievous eyes, Wolverine felt his cheeks growing red. He snatched his glass to conceal his face and drained it, using every moment to scrabble for a reasonable answer.
"No...uh...I was...just wondering. If you wanted to...um...hit the bars tonight. Ya know. Me and you."
His cheeks were aflame. Gambit's red eyes danced devilishly.
"Is dat a date, homme?"
"Whatever, Cassanova."
Gambit just laughed.