Disclaimer: Don't own Gambit; do own Blaze

The Tokyo Job 03

They entered from the road into a bar with a frontage so small that from the outside it looked as though there wouldn't be room to move inside. They were pleasantly surprised as they pushed open the door to see a room that was indeed narrow, but also very long. It seemed to taper off into the distance, decorated with maybe thousands of black and white framed photographs and jazzy neon signs advertising beers. The bar was in the centre of the long right hand wall, staffed by two smiling Japanese bartenders. Other than that, the place was empty. Well, Blaze thought, I guess it is kind of early to be drinking. Never mind…

"How's your Japanese?" Blaze asked, wringing water from her hair onto the floor as the barmen smiled welcomingly at them both.

"Not too shabby." Remy reckoned with a grin. Blaze smiled and left him to it, heading to the ladies to rescue her half-drowned appearance. Remy's Japanese, she heard as she pushed open the door, consisted of him saying "Two beers" slowly and in English. Shaking her head, Blaze had to smother a girly giggle.

A short while later Blaze re-emerged to find Gambit sat at a small table complete with two bottles of beer, one of which was already nearly empty. His coat was flung over another chair and surrounded by a small reservoir of water. Typically armed with a deck of cards, Gambit was passing the time shuffling them and staring vacantly into space. What is he thinking, Blaze wondered, is he thinking about me? I'm shutting him out rather well today, is he thinking that it was a mistake to come here? Blaze couldn't deny that the idea unnerved her. Time to open up? Well, maybe a few drinks would make it all easier.

"Wanna play?" Gambit asked as she sat down, demonstrating the cards but quite clearly implying something else. Blaze took a swig of her beer before agreeing to the card game.

"Only if I can choose the game."

"Sure Cherie. Gambit can beat you at anythin' so it ain't like you choosin' gonna change nothin'." His grin was infectious despite the fact he was teasing her.

"You wanna bet?" Dangerous words around the Cajun who laughed and decreed the loser should buy the next round. Blaze agreed and they shook on it before she announced that the game should be simple snap. Gambit wasn't entirely convinced.

"There no skill in snap Petite! It all jus' luck of the cards."

"You're the one who reckons he was born lucky, so prove it." Blaze replied. Both beers were drained so as to eliminate distraction before battle was joined. Blaze won the first 'snap' occasion, though Gambit moaned it wasn't fair because she'd put the matching card down. He didn't complain when he got one though. Then they went through a dry stage, and the pile of cards got bigger and bigger between them. The game got tense as it became obvious that whoever won the next 'snap' would essentially win the game.

Blaze got thirsty and bought another round, riding out Remy's insistence that she was ceding defeat by threatening to not get him a drink. It was stupid, she decided, all this nightmare after that night, but a game of cards and a few beers and its like we're just mates like always. Maybe I was wrong. I've over-reacted. Maybe things can just go back to how they were before.

She was wrong. When the 'snap' finally happened on the very last card Remy was holding, they were both on the edge of their seats. At exactly the same moment, both of them saw the queen matching the queen underneath. Fast as the lighting that stroked the sky outside, both hands descended. Both called out "Snap!" their fingers tangling as they went for the cards at a tangent. The cards were forgotten the second skin met skin.

Without a thought Blaze met Remy's amazing red-on-black eyes. Her pulse raced, her stomach clenched and her breath caught in her chest, gagging her. She was back out in the rain again feeling his lips momentarily caress her neck. She was in a Jacuzzi in South Africa, half-innocently stretching for a bottle of champagne across her friend's bare torso. She was in his arms, knowing without a doubt why women never wanted to let this boy go.

With a thud she was back in the bar again, the haphazard pile of cards spilling over under their knotted hands. Remy was talking to her, stroking her palm with an index finger. She flushed as he watched her eyes with a lopsided smile creeping in on the edges of his mouth.

"What?" Blaze shook her head, blinking as she tried to focus.

"Chere the day you listen to a damn t'ing I tell you, I swear I drop dead from the shock." Did nothing faze this man? Blaze asked herself. She knew the answer too; some things might but not many. And right now he obviously thought he had everything under control. It made him so laid back he was almost horizontal, and incredibly irritating to boot.

"I said I get the drinks. You ain't beat me mind, so don't start thinkin' you too good for Gambit." He winked at her and glanced at their hands on the tabletop. It took Blaze a second to realise what he was illustrating. Her palm was definitely the lowest, Gambit's hand encasing it, his fingers locked between hers. Whether or not she'd actually won, Blaze had no idea. Remy could quite easily have coerced her responsive hand to move without Blaze connecting the movement with the card game.

"Tequila." He ordered the barman without so much as looking over at them. "No not glasses, give us the bottle."

Blaze smiled, he was a man after her own heart. Or perhaps, just perhaps, he knew he already had it…