Author's note: Well, I suppose since it has only been one day since the story was first posted but reviews are appreciated! Alright, now Remy will be introduced in this chapter. I just want to make one thing clear before this story continues. Although I am a devoted Rogue fan, this is NOT a Romy fic. It will never become a Romy fic. Ever. Well, happy readings!

The Vampire Pandora

Chapter 3

A sigh of contentment escaped Gabrielle's lips as she sat brushing her long hair. Not even a week ago, had anyone told her she would be comfortably settled into a luxurious yellow bedroom wearing a fuzzy house coat and slippers Gabrielle would have laughed. Well, maybe instead she would have cried. Cried at the tormenting thought that such a thing could never actually happen.

Well, there were no tears now. Only warm toes and clean hair for the first time in days. The blue brush stood out against her raven locks as it combed through her sleek hair, eliminating the tangles that stuck there so stubbornly. Gabrielle rose to her feet and walked over to the mirror that hung by her dresser. Well, not her dresser by any means, but it was nice to pretend.

The mirror was rather impressive, hanging just above her head and nearly reaching the floor. Gabrielle stared at her silent reflexion, lost in her thoughts. The teenage girl that stared back wore the same pensive expression that Gabrielle did.

Not considered by many to be tall, Gabrielle did not find herself to be short either. Standing proud at an even 5'5", she had a slim physique and a long torso. Although she seemed a little gaunt from lack of proper nutrition, there was no worries that in a place like this that she would go hungry. Her long black hair fell well past her shoulders and mid-way down her back. Her hair had natural wave to it, making it look fuller than it was. That was one aspect of her physical appearance that she liked. Her hair had always made her stand out amongst the flat-ironed hair that the pretty Parisian girls sported.

Her skin was also naturally tanned. Her father's father had been a Spaniard, and his wife a Dutch countrywoman. Gabrielle remembered her father little, she had hardly known him. A successful man, her father had never been bothered by family life. He much prefered jetting off to exciting destinations for work, while leaving his daugheters behind with his wife. Gabrielle had been named for his mother. Thank-God she had not been born a boy. She did not fancy having to carry the name Allejandro, her father's. As a child she had always found it much too difficult to spell.

As distant as she had been with her father, she had been a little closer to her mother, Josephine. Born of an Italian mother and a French father, Gabrielle's mother had her daughter's thick, dark hair while Allejandro had her violet eyes. Josephine did not accompany her husband on his business across Europe but she was certainly no home-maker. She loved society, and made sure to be where everyone else seemed to be. Of course, she was always certain that her girls be well cared for. Thus the best available nannies were hired.

Gabrielle smiled as she paused to finger the golden locket at her throat. A gift from her elder sister Amelia on her twelfth birthday. The day Gabrielle's powers had decided to manifest...

Gabrielle had always admired her sister, the way she was always beautiful, inside and out. Amelia radiated some kind of inner goodness that people were naturally attracted too. She had the same features as her younger sister, but had her mother's green eyes. Gabrielle had always been envious of those eyes...

"Gabrielle?", came a chipper voice from behind her bedroom door.

Turning to put her brush down on her dresser, Gabrielle tightened her robe around her before going to open the door.

Kitty Pryde stood waiting in the hallway and grinned as she caught the sight of Gabrielle in her housecoat.

"Just came to make sure everything was okay", she said hospitably.

"Oh, yes. Everything's wonderful", Gabrielle answered, unable to make her voice sound as happy as Kitty's.

Kitty literally bounced into Gabrielle's room. Her socked feet made no sound as she glided over the plush carpet. The headboard of Gabrielle's bed smacked the wall as Kitty jovially launched herself unto it. Sighing, Gabrielle closed the door and made her way over to the other girl. Gabrielle sat on the end of her bed as Kitty lay back unto the pillows, giggling.

"It's so cool that you'll be staying here for a while", Kitty told her. "Don't get me wrong, Jubs is like my best friend but it'll be nice having more girls around. The guys can kinda get on your nerves."

"Everybody seems nice", Gabrielle offered.

Kitty nodded seriously. "Oh, they are. They just, I dunno, they're boys. Totally, ugh, you know."

Gabrielle smiled her agreement.

"Well, they are my friends but... Well, Bobby can kinda be a handful and Sam can be arrogant. John was cool, but he, well, he's not here anymore. And of course Gambit, but he's gone too..." Kitty's voice trailed off a little as her eyes started to close.

Gabrielle noticed her friend's sleepy face and quickly gave her a little nudge.

"Kitty, maybe you should go back to your room. You look like you're about to pass out."

The smile returned to her bright face. "Alright then. I better, like, go to bed then. You know how it is, I'll be totally swamped tomorrow."

Lightly and gracefully, Kitty bounded off Gabrielle's bed and made her way over to the door. With one last wink and a wave, she disappeared out through the darkened hall.

Gabrielle shook her head, smiling a little to herself as she closed the door and headed for her own bed.

"One more, s'il-vous-plaît."

The bartender slapped down another shot glass of whiskey. He wiped his hands on the dishtowel he held as he looked uncertainly upon the young man slouched over his bar. The boy's hand trembled slightly as he raised the glass to his mouth and drowned back the amber liquid. Wiping his mouth with the back of a gloved hand, he set the glass upside down next to the other half dozen that littered the counter-top.

" Un autre, mon frere.", the boy whispered.

Shaking his head slightly and backing away, the bartender took the whiskey bottle off the bar. Sweat broke out on his brow and his hands shook slightly as he reached out to take the boy's arm.

" I think you've had enough, friend", the bartender scolded, with as much confidence as he could muster. His hand grasped the boy's wrist and he attempted to get him off the stool he had been perched on.

He could only gasp as the boy's other hand was suddenly clamped tightly around his neck. His eyes bulged in surprise as the young man's drilled into his own. Red iris on black, this strange boy's eyes seemed demonic to the elderly bartender and the glare he was being shot did not help.

"What the! Ernie! Ernie, what the hell?", voices were ringing out around the bar, some in shock and others in obvious anger.

The bartender known as Ernie struggled with the boy's tightening grip. He brought up both hands in a futile attempt to free himself. His feet dangled helplessly in the air as he felt himself being picked up. He fought for breath and tried to wrench the stranger's fingers from his neck.

" All Remy wanted was another verre , mon ami. Iz dat truly too much ta ask?" The boy's Cajun voice drawled out slowly, and dripped with frustration. He wobbled slightly as he spoke and did not seem to notice those who were surrounding him until he was jumped from the side.

The boy grunted as he released his hold on Ernie's sore throat and fell on his side, his attacker still atop him. He rolled unto his back and managed to send his opponent flying with a kick to his stomach. He lurched drunkenly to his feet and opened his arms wide.

"Come on, who iz next? Remy not be scared. Waz da matter? Pouilles mouillées?1"

Another man from the bar shoved his way through the crowd and pushed his friend out before him. Both of them advanced on Remy slowly, grinning maliciously. Cracking his knuckles, the one closet to Remy suddenly to a running leap and charged the younger man.

Although he was (a little!) intoxicated, Remy dodged the attack easily. The thug fell to the floor with a thud, groaning a little as he got up on his hands and knees. The second, upon seeing his courageous friend fall, gave a primitive yell and grabbed a beer bottle from a nearby table. Breaking it on the table's edge, he smiled sinisterly as he approached Remy.

Remy casually slipped his hand into the pocket of his well-worn, brown trench coat and leisurely fingered the playing cards that rested within it. Taking one in his fingers, he smiled at his assailant as he felt the card charge within his hand.

The man suddenly yelled and was cheered on by the others and a now re-cooperated Ernie as he rushed at Remy. He ran with his arm outstretched, the broken bottle held out in his extended hand, the jagged end gleaming viciously at Remy. The time for playing was over.

Moving quickly for a drunken man, Remy whipped out the now fully charged card and sent it flying before him. It landed a few feet before the running man and exploded on contact, sending those before it flying back. The one planning on attacking him was launched backwards into a pile of broken tables. Ernie, it seemed, was hiding behind the bar.

"Mutant!", he whispered as Remy walked by.

Remy only smiled as he surveyed the suddenly quiet tavern. Dipping his hand once more into his pocket, he took out some loose change and threw it unto the bar.

"Merci, homme. It's been fun but Remy must be goin' now. À la prochaine?"2

Remy walked out calmly and decided to overlook the curses he heard from Ernie. He threw open the heavy, wooden door and stepped outside.

"So what do you think?"

Charles Xavier sat in his private office looking back at the older X-Men. Ororo, Scott and Jean were sitting in the wooden armchairs arranged before his desk, and Logan leaned against the wall by the fireplace. The X-Men glanced at each other, but none seemed willing to be spokesperson.

Charles looked them each in the eye. Catching Jean's, he noticed how she fidgeted under his glance, something she did not normally do. She had something to say.

"Jean", the professor said, expectantly.

Jean sighed. Who was she kidding? She knew she wanted to talk.

"Well, I think she seems nice, just a little confused. Lost, maybe".

Xavier nodded at her words and leaned back into his wheel-chair. He had assembled them here to discuss their newest arrival. He wanted to be sure that the others were comfortable having Gabrielle at the Institute.

Well, her arrival had been interesting. From her first reaction to Hank to her shocking handshake with Logan. However, he knew his team were an accepting one, and he had little doubts that they would welcome the girl into their midst.

"I agree with Jean", Ororo added. " I think she is very powerful but unable to fully control her mutation, ergo the frightened feeling she gave off to us. I think all she really needs is someone she can trust, someone she can relate to, to help her with her powers."

The prof. nodded vigorously. "You're probably right Ororo. And I'm glad you feel so sympathetic to her situation. Would you mind being the one to help her over the next few weeks? She seems to have taken to you."

Storm smiled at the memory of the timid girl who had given her that tentative grin. She sighed a little to herself. Why was it she always seemed to end up with the one's everyone else sighed away from? It had happened before, with Remy.

"Of course, I shall be here to help you both once things move along", the professor reassured.

"I would be honored to help her, Charles", Ororo Munroe told him with confidence. "But I would like some help."

"Don't look at me", Logan growled, "It took me forever to get my hair back to normal."

"That's normal", Scott laughed as he took in Logan's notoriously wild hair-do.

"Got a problem with it, Bub?", Logan asked menacingly.

Scott put up both hands in a gesture of peace and shook his head. Looking satisfied, Logan went back to his silent brooding.

"I'd like to help you Ororo, but I don't think I have the time right now. What with all my new classes and..."

"Don't worry Jean", Storm interrupted kindly. "I had someone in mind."

"Mr.LeBeau", the professor said knowingly. Upon seeing the shocked faces of the others, he shrugged his shoulders comically, "Telepathic, remember?"

"Remy?", asked Jean, sounding unconvinced. "Are you sure? I mean, we don't even know where he is? Let alone how to bring him back..."

"But he would be a great help", Ororo persisted. "He can relate to what Rielle is feeling, I'm sure. And I would appreciate having him here again."

Logan snapped back once more with vehemence. A loud schnikt sound was heard as the long, silver claws came out from between his knuckles. He walked closer to them slowly, shaking a little in his rage.

"I don't want Gumbo back here", he hissed through clenched teeth. "All I can remember is how long Rogue cried when he left. I swear, if he ever did come back". He stabbed dramatically into the air to make his point.

"Logan please, be mature about this", Ororo pleaded.

"But Jean's right, we don't know where he is", Scott reminded them.

"If you would all calm down", the professor said mildly, "I would like to continue."

Even Logan appeared a little sheepish as they calmed down and turned to face the professor.

"I have been tracking Remy with Cerebro since he left", the professor began. "It has been difficult since his mind shields are so impressive, but there have been romps of, well, drunkenness which made it easier to locate him."

"So you know where he is", Ororo whispered. Why had Charles not told her? After all, she had grown close to the Cajun boy who had come to them for help two years ago. He had become like a younger brother, almost a son to her.

"I did not tell you because he was not yet ready to return, Storm", the professor said, answering her unspoken question.

"And you think he is now?", asked Jean dubiously.

"I do."

1Chicken? ( As in, coward, weakling)

2Until next time?