Chapter 1

It had taken me days to become visible again, and when I did, I was scolded for hours. I explained what had happened, and of course, father didn't mind Kyle's advances, saying that we were engaged and that behavior like that was to be expected, and to keep it hush until we were officially wed. Typical. I bowed my head and took it all in.

Mutant. That's what father had called me. Apparently he had heard that there was this strange and rare disease that made humans become monsters. I had been instructed to hide my identity, and apart from my new, violet and color changing eyes, the mutation as he called it, was easily hidden.

Still, for weeks afterwards, if I got frightened or startled, I would suddenly become invisible, and it took hours for me to fade back in again.

It was never spoken of around the house again.

Yet then again, it was how I met him…that strange man at the tavern. I had had enough of being locked inside because of this 'mutation' and I had to get outside, if only for a while. I picked out my plainest dress and snuck out my window to wander the dark streets alone.

The air seemed so clean that night, free of dust and pollen and fragrant as fresh spring rain, and the sky was as deeply black as the sea at night, and flecks of light, the stars, twinkled brilliantly in their aquatic blanket. It brought a smile to my face and warmth to my heart. I could look on forever into the expanse of the sky and just dream that things were different. What would have happened if things were different and I was born a commoner? Would I still be marrying Kyle? Or would I be free to marry a man I loved?

I would be free! I would be able to walk this harbor town with a smile and wild spirit, like the one I know I have deep down! I curled my fingers into my long golden brown hair and smoothed it back, knowing the bun in my hair would fall loose if I wasn't careful, and holding my cloak shut with my free hand as I watched the cobblestone pavement pass beneath my moving feet. I would be walking these streets a different girl.

I looked over towards the tavern, and thought 'why not' as my stride paced onwards towards it. It would be my only time there…right? I stopped at the door, hand pausing just a hair over the copper handle. My eyes peered inside. Would anyone recognize me? I quickly drew my hand away and pulled the pin from my hair, tossed it into the bushes beside the tavern and combed it with my fingers. No one had ever seen me with my hair down, seeing as father thought it was a shameful thing for a woman to do outside her home. But of course, father wasn't here!

I took a breath and walked inside, startled at first by the cloud that met me. Cigars smoldered in the hands of several men, and rolled papers filled with imported tobacco hung from the lips of several others. One such man was close, and my lung protested the smoke it took in, and a coughed, though it was drowned out by the man and his fiddle who sat on a small stage up front. The music, loud and boisterous, as well as the clamor of shouts, conversation of sailors and seamen, and even the sight of a few prostitutes startled me further. I had known that taverns were the meeting place of all sorts of people, but I had no idea that so many foreigners gathered here. SO many different accents, languages and gestures…I felt over loaded, and dimly I realized I still stood in the doorway, attracting stares.

I quickly closed the door and took a step further in, scanning for a free seat. What exactly did one do in such a place anyway?

The man whose smoke I inhaled earlier looked up at me, as I rubbed my eyes, feeling them sting from it as well.

A smooth, rich French voice curled up towards me with the smoke that came from the same lips. "What's da matter petit? Dun come t'taverns much, do ya." It was more of a statement than a question, and I felt my heart sink as I realized I was so transparent. It was obvious, yet still I denied it.

"No Sir, I frequent these places regularly. You must be mistaken!" I Realized my chin was level as I spoke, and I did not look him in the eyes, a sure fire give away of my class. So I instantly relaxed my posture, trying to fit in as my gaze fell to the man who spoke to me. I had to be convincing!

My breath caught in my lungs, not from the smoke this time, but from the man before me.

Eyes…the Devils eyes.

I looked away, blushing though I wasn't sure why. They had been ruby red on garnet black, alive and fiery, almost aglow!

I dared another look, but this time, took the rest of him in as well.

He was around 21 or so, I gathered, with slightly grown out, yet full unruly auburn hair waving lazily over his forehead. He had broad shoulders, a chiseled, square chin, and soft pouty lips curved into a smirk. His button up dress shirt certainly wasn't dressy, but was only buttoned half way, leaving it open, the dark hairs of a mans chest that were left so openly for inspection drawing my curious stare. My cheeks felt warm.

His voice startled me from my speculation, saying, "Alrigh', be honest, on a scale of one to ten Gambit is…. 8? 9 mehbe?" His smirk grew arrogant and eyes sharpened in a seducing way I had never before seen.

I felt my face grow furiously hot with a blush, reprimanding myself mentally for having so empty headedly and openly stare at him. I turned away from him again, flustered and certainly wanting to crawl under a rock.

"I…uh-I wasn't…" I felt myself shaking a bit, amazed at how timid my own voice sounded.

Apparently he thought so too, as his smirk vanished and those devilish eyes grew soft.

"You okay chere?" He pulled his rolled tobacco away from his lips.

I didn't answer, I just turned to leave the embarrassment, to head outside when I felt a hand on my wrist, and a soft tug. It was coaxing and accompanied by that voice of his.

"Why dun you sit down…you look like you need it. Need some water?"

I looked back, and certainly felt lightheaded and dehydrated. He gestured to a chair beside him at his table.

I nodded.

I sat down as he got up and went to the bar, and I simply watched as he got the water.

Those eyes.

Kind of like…my own. Did he have the same disease as I? Maybe I wasn't alone, and then hope for answers became a priority in my mind. He seemed French by his accent, so that must mean there are obviously others in other countries that possess this strange deformity

I began to wonder, even as the man returned and set the glass of water down. I picked it up instantly and began to guzzle it, not realizing how the smoke had parched me. I set down the empty glass and breathed, closing my eyes. He watched quietly, taking back his seat and leaning forward.

"Better?" He asked.

"Very much, thank you." I replied, raising my eyes back to his.

He looked back evenly, and I recognized the look in his eyes. Inspection. He saw my own eye color and was examining them. I felt a blush once more, and his eyed widened slightly as he watched them change.

"Your eyes jus' changed color…" He murmured, intending for me to hear, but just loud enough to make out.

My gaze drooped, and I felt self-conscious. Perhaps my appearance did bother him. Maybe just because he seemed to have the same problem didn't mean it wasn't still disturbing.

"I'm sorry sir." I felt impelled to say.

He raised a brow inquisitively. "Why's dat?"

I looked back up. "My eyes…that they disturb you…"

He chuckled and leaned back, blunting the end of his almost nonexistent tobacco roll. "Petit, if dose pretty eyes bothered Gambit, He'd be a hypocrite! He got a pair too." He cocked his head to the side, his hair waving hypnotically over his forehead. I watched a moment before catching myself staring again. "Gambit was more afraid dat his eyes would bother you."

I blinked. "No, not at all, they're…exotic. I've never seen their equal."

"Neither has Gambit."

"Gambit?" I inquired.

He grinned widely. "Dat's my name!" He suddenly reached across the table and swept up my hand into his, and kissed my knuckles with a tenderness that made my heart flutter. Of all men to have kissed my hand, that kiss was undoubtedly the most enjoyable. I smiled, flattered that such a man, obviously not from noble upbringing, would make such a noble gesture towards me. "Remy LeBeau at your service mon ange…also known as Gambit…" He released my hand only to reach forward, and my breath got stuck in my throat again as his fingers fingered my hair, his eyes watching it as he ran his hand easily through it. He trembled. He grinned wider.

"Gambit not gonna hurt you chere…" He said, my eyes watching the curb oh his lips as he spoke, and my imagination once more over actively imagined something positively sinful, and I blushed deeply, noting to myself to pray for forgiveness for such unchaste thoughts.

"I'm not afraid…" I lied. I was afraid. Afraid of the new sensations I was feeling, and afraid to feel them for the man that had met me, he looking for a 'good time'.

"Liar…" He said bluntly, pulling a tin out of his pocket and opening it. It was filled with tobacco, and rolling it in paper he had placed under the lid, he looked me dead in the eyes as he pulled a card out of his pocket, and, to my astonishment, it began to glow. With the edge of the fiery card, he lit the end his tobacco. "Remy tinks you have a lot to talk wit him about."

I stood quickly, finding myself breathing again. What had he just done?

He stood as well, and though I turned and walked out of the tavern, noting the curious gazes as I left, this 'Remy LeBeau' followed. My heart began to thud, and I walked faster, and he hurried along to catch up, grabbing my arm. I whirled at him with an open palm, intending too slap him to teach him a lesson, but to my great surprise, he caught it easily. He leaned in a little closer.

"Now what did Gambit do to deserve a slap?"

"Gentleman do not follow ladies Mr. LeBeau!" I replied, staring up into his smoldering embered eyes.

"N'what makes you tink that's what Gambits doin?" he teased, leaning his head lower towards mine. I felt my defenses starting to fall at the close proximity…or was it something else… something out of my control.

I blinked, my mouth slightly agape. "Y-you followed me right out…you grabbed my arm."

"Caught you're arm," He interrupted abruptly, "Just so a poor fool can get d'name of dis pretty angel!"

"You mock me?" I said in exasperation at the shallow compliment.

"Non, just charm you." A roguish smile bloomed onto his face, and I leveled my nose defiantly, an act that surprised even me, but I suspect it was out of defense.

"Scoundrel!" I spat, pulling my arm free, which he released before hand, making me stumble slightly.

He smiled and did a sweeping bow motion.

"At your service!"

I just stood, amazed at this man. He took my insults as compliments, moved as sleek as a mink and spoke to me as if I were just another street-side brothel girl! One moment a gentleman, the next a common thug!

"Your name…please?" He stood, a mere foot away, awaiting my answer in a way that made me suddenly rethink that impression of him, and compelled, by what I do not know, I answered him.

"Celeste…. Miss Celeste Benedict." I whispered, bowing my head and looking away. Perhaps my name, my family name, would frighten him off.

He smirked. "Noble…dat explains it."

"If you know of the Benedict name you know my father would not tolerate this behavior." My feet suddenly became very interesting as I spoke. He knew who I was now. The act would end, and he would leave, knowing I wasn't the pleasure he sought for that night. But why did that thought bother me so much?

"Nope, dun' know him!" He strode past me and leaned against the brick of the building beside us, the cigarette that had been sitting between his fingers raised to his lips to be smoked. He inhaled the nicotine deeply and blew out the stream of smoke. Diluted, the scent of him, whisky and the smoke, smelled heavenly somehow. "Gambit can tell you high class by how you introduce yourself, and how outta place you were in d'bar!" He gestured his head with a small bend towards the building in question and sucked in the smoke again.

I was dumbfounded.

"Y-you don't know who I am?" I stuttered in amazement.

He shook his head. "No ma'am, Gambit not from dis town… He only steal from it."

"Y-you're a…a t-thief!"

Those intense eyes were on mine again, and he nodded. "Oui."

"Mr. LeBeau…I…why do you tell me these things?" The words slipped through my lips, earnest and desperate. "What makes you think I am the kind of person that will not turn you in for such a crime."

"Gambit is a pirate name chere…you'd never catch me!"

I somehow realized the truth in that. No man of the guard, chivalrous as most were, would ever be able to capture a pirate with such abilities as Gambit…

I looked at his hands, gloved in leather, the pointer and pinkie fingers cut off in stark contrast of pink skin against the black.

"How do…how do you do that…how did you make the card glow…" I looked up at him, unashamed this time. "Do you have that mutant disease too?"

He made a sour face at my words, and by nature, I shrunk back.

"None chere, I dun have a disease…I have a gene that makes me dis way…" His tone was serious as he walked forward, towards me, the clunk of his boots heavy on the cobblestone. The sudden lack of his usual third person monolog made his lighthearted personality take a turn that made me realize just how vulnerable I was to him. "Its in my blood and gives me dat power…dis power." In movement my eyes could barely detect, another card was in his hand, aflame in a magenta glow and cackling with power. It easily lit the street, and cast an eerie glow on his face. "If I let go a dis card, mon ami….dis street would be history. But as long as I touch it…I control it." The card suddenly lost its glow, and was back to normal. It was an ace of hearts.

He handed the card to me, and I took it gingerly, as if it could easily be broken.

He stepped in close, and whispered. "Gambits gotta go mon ange…but…take dis and remember de thief a hearts…"

With a sweeping motion, he caught my wrist and pulled me flush against him, and stole a deep and passionate kiss. Powerful yet gentle, his hand in my hair he pressed his lips tightly to mine, and then…he was gone, and I was alone, leaving me with kiss bruised lips and an ace of hearts in my hand…and in my memory. Indeed, that was what he was. Breathless and a little light headed I made my way back home.

But I would have never dreamed of how I would meet Gambit the pirate next.

AU I know I know, the story is a bit marysueish, but I am trying to keep Remy in character. Please leave a review and let me know if I'm doing ok. In this story, Remy is a Pirate, and a damn good one. Hes in twn that night looking for an easy lay of sorts, so he was up for charming some women. IC? I don't know, I thought so….how'd I do?