(Three)
Gambit woke to the sound of his alarm clock and groaned. He had taken a nap to prepare for this night's mission, it was sure to be an all nighter. He shut the alarm off but was simply too comfortable to move. He had been working a lot of hours lately and wasn't getting as much sleep as he really needed.
He looked up as the door opened and Molly slipped in, ready to wake him. He had been known to shut off the alarm in his sleep and run late and she was here to get him moving. She smiled when he turned to look at her, a playful grin firmly in place on his lips. Yeah, you're ready to work, she teased. Gambit had excellent night vision and she knew he could see her hands moving in the dark.
Remy appeared human enough on the surface, the only obvious giveaway for his being a mutant was his eyes. They were demonic in appearance, having an all black sclera and red irises. They didn't glow in the dark, but could be downright scary when seen for the first time. Out in public, he often wore sunglasses to conceal them. They did come with a serious advantage, his night vision was pretty sharp, almost as keen as Wolverine's.
"Gambit's always ready," he replied to his wife, reaching out for her and tumbling her into the bed. He had a habit of referring to himself in the third person, a disassociative condition from less happier times. He hadn't always been so fond of himself and had distanced himself from who had become. He had received help for this from the Professor but the trait sometimes lingered, coming out in his speech. That and a mishmash of French and Bayou he had learned from his youth in New Orleans. His accent and manner of speaking made him very unique here at the school.
Molly squealed laughter and gave a token struggle as he wrestled her under him. They twisted and struggled playfully against one another for a minute, Molly letting him win of course. Her mutation made her naturally stronger than him, but she seldom used that power against him, it just wasn't fair, she reasoned. Actually she liked to let him win, it usually meant he ended up on top of her and she liked that so very much. Their play gradually changed as it always did, sliding into passion. The growing pile of clothes on the floor pretty much assured Gambit was going to be late for work again.
Remy loved his wife dearly. She wasn't his usual fare, that much was true. He had been something of a womanizer in his younger days, feasting on the finest of female flesh whenever it was offered. Blondes, brunettes, redheads, it didn't matter. He loved them all. That changed when he fell in love with Molly. She was very young then and far from beautiful but it didn't seem to matter. There was something there he saw in her and it never let him go. He bided his time until she came of age and then asked her to marry him, thrilled when she accepted him readily.
"Je t'aime, Molly girl," he whispered now in her ear as his hands played over her body. He had made the mistake in the past of not telling his significant others that they were loved, he had rectified that with Molly early. He told her every day, making certain his words were heard. He never wanted to lose her.
Molly grunted at him, a soft lion's bark in the dark. She couldn't really speak words, but she could make sounds, usually to emphasize her point when she spoke with her hands. Remy loved her sounds, especially the one she made when he finally slid inside of her, making her shiver. That one was real fine.
She had been a young girl when they married, he was her first and only lover. He had taught her well over the years, her pleasure becoming his thrill. She never questioned the vastness of his knowledge, she knew he had done some running around. She had even expected him to be unfaithful, how could someone that promiscuous just drop all of it for an ugly girl like herself? Yet so far, no other woman had ever turned his head and she would have known it if it had happened. Her senses were as keen as Wolverine's, he would never get another woman past her.
Molly shivered and voiced her pleasure, aroused even further when Remy's lust for her became so strong, he began to give off vibrations of his desire. She wasn't an empath herself, but she was sensitive to his vibrations, especially when he was really close like this. It had grown over the years and became part of their strong bonding. She would never doubt his love and need for her, she felt it every time they made love. It enhanced their loving and boosted her rush, pretty much ensuring they climaxed almost simultaneously. She had grown to enjoy this, never realizing just how privileged she really was. Sex with a normal human would feel stale and empty compared to this.
Remy laughed quietly, enjoying this as much as she did. He had been very much aware of how he had affected her, happy to boost her rush. He knew the difference well enough, did Remy. Since Kimble had boosted his empathy, sex for him had never been the same. It was like being high and if he and Molly were particularly active on a given night, he could sometimes become intoxicated on her feelings, drinking them up like wine. God, he loved her.
You're going to be late, Molly signed after a moment, rubbing her fingers against his palm.
"Wouldn't be de firs' time, won' be de last," he grumbled happily, pulling back from her a bit to nuzzle her breasts. A fine layer of blonde hair covered her body, something she was sometimes embarrassed about, but he didn't care in the least. It made her soft and smooth to the touch, lovely to taste.
Molly giggled at his attention, but gently pushed him off. You have to get going. Logan's going to be mad.
"Non, just jealous. Gambit's got de prettiest girl in de place," he said, meaning it. He obeyed her however and got up, reaching for his clothes. He had intended to shower before going out that night, but one glance at the clock told him he was going to have to skip it.
Molly squirmed into the warm spot they had made and snuggled under the blankets. It was now almost midnight and she was tired from chasing kids all day. Remy watched her as he dressed, amazed at how quickly she could fall asleep. She was out cold by the time he grabbed his coat and slid it on. He brushed her hair gently and left, closing the door behind him.
He moved into the livingroom and saw Kimble passed out on the couch, the television still on. The sight of it made him smile. Kimble was dressed only in a pair of loose silk pajama bottoms, leaving his large purple Mark exposed. It was a tattoo that covered his whole chest, a purple woman lying across a long black sword, the Mark of a Siskan who was part of the Game. Remy hadn't learned much about the Game, only that it involved Dognan Masters seeking out as many Siskan Courtesans they could find, specific 'grams that had been specially Marked like Kimble was. Having Kimble in his possession, Marked like this, meant that others would always come to try and steal him away, including Jael. The Mark was Kimble's curse, a sign of his value to anyone who might chose to seek him out. It was a beautiful Mark on a beautiful body. Kimble was the most gorgeous Siskan he had ever seen.
Remy's relationship with this Siskan was complex. They had started out as friends, meeting on one of Remy's adventures into the beyond. Kimble had been injured and Gambit came to his rescue, using his ability to produce bio-kinetic energy as a way of healing him. During the exchange, some of Kimble's memories were imprinted on Remy's brain, bonding them closer than brothers. Gambit could now speak the Siskan language fluently and his latent empathic abilities were given a huge boost. It also made him see Kimble for what he truly was, a child wrapped in the skin of a man.
It was hard for the others here to fully understand what Kimble was exactly. He was a sentient computer program given life. That life being driven by an immature, childish mind. Siskans were meant to be protected and sheltered, they hadn't been designed to deal with the harsh realities of real life. They suffered under abuse and hard treatment, something that caused this Siskan here to shatter. Kimble had broken down into four personalities — Zander, an angry personality known as the Punisher and Lakotashay, a bitter, self loathing and suicidal personality known as the Quitter. She was Kimble's pain and the most cruel. She had committed the worst of the Siskan's crimes, murdering three men. There was also tiny Lin, the Confessor. He tried to warn others away, fearful that they would murder or harm someone else. Finally there was Kimble himself, the Lover. This was the main personality of the program and the one now firmly in control, thanks to a repair by the Games Master, a specialist on Siskan holograms that Remy had hunted down. Now Kimble was in Remy's care.
Lakotashay's crimes would not go unpunished. Kimble was actually a prisoner here at the Institute, given a lenient sentence since he wasn't entirely to blame for what had happened. Wolverine had struck a deal with the SHIELD authorities, granting Kimble exile here instead of him languishing in a prison. He was being "rehabilitated".
Kimble had a Mistress now, but it had been Remy who had first taken custody of him once the deal with SHIELD was made. A Siskan Courtesan needs a Master to feel normal, they are made to serve. It was generally believed Kimble would do better with a Master, so it fell to Remy, the one who understood him best. When Angel came, she took over that role, possessing Kimble in full as he cared for her. On paper Remy was still responsible for him and Kimble lived here with him and Molly for safekeeping.
Before Remy had married, while he was waiting for Molly to grow old enough, he and Kimble had a brief affair. Kimble's mentality had him behave much like a child, but he was a Siskan pleasure program and was driven by a sexual desire as strong as any adult. He could fuck with the best of them, anything goes. He was neither male nor female in his mind, but fate had trapped him in the skin of a man, forever causing him to be judged that way. Remy knew better and it hadn't come in the way of their intimacy.
Gambit wasn't gay or truly bisexual, this was more of an empathic thing. They had bonded so closely and shared so much of the same power that their becoming physically intimate was almost inevitable. Kimble had been very fragile at the time and Remy couldn't help but reach out. Once he had asked Molly to marry him, Remy had put that intimacy to an end. Kimble went along with it, loving Molly almost as much as his former Master. He lived for Remy's happiness and since Molly provided that, he let Gambit go with the promise that he would always be kept near. Of course his wish was granted, it was demanded by the agreement with SHIELD and by Gambit's heart.
So now here they were, the sleeping Siskan and his former Master, living under the same roof. Their lack of sexual intimacy hadn't dimmed their bond, Kimble would always reach out to him first when he was troubled. Kimble was always respectful of Molly's claim on him and there hadn't been trouble, the three of them lived well as they cared for Angel and worked with the team. There was peace in this house.
Kimble shifted on the couch, sprawling onto his back and taking a deep breath before starting to snore softly. The sound of it caused Remy to laugh quietly. His love for Kimble ran deep and the sight of him at peace always made Gambit happy. They had shared so much hurt and pain and now love and peace. Remy would no more let him go than he would Molly.
Kimble snorted soft dreamy laughter and squirmed a little more, a smile spreading across his face. He was having a nice dream, a very happy one judging by the gently rising bulge in his pants. Kimble was aware of it even in dreamland, and without waking, he raised one heavy hand to adjust himself to a more comfortable position.
Simply watching the pilot touching himself was enough to make Remy shiver with a blast of renewed lust he couldn't help. There were times, quiet times like this, that the mere sight of the pilot laying spread out for the taking, so very fuckable, could take Remy's breath away. So much pleasure had come his way from this strange creature, things he had never imagined he could feel - love on a scale no human could possibly believe existed without having to feel it themselves. This Siskan had done just that. He had brought Remy to a place no one else ever had, a place that had been torture to give up. Kimble was a habit that was hard to break.
Gambit took the afghan from the back of the couch and spread it over his Siskan, covering that bright white flesh before temptation could make him give in. He hoped the dream was one of a gentle passionate love, but the truth was, he couldn't be sure. For eight years they had known each other and the only thing Remy had ever wanted was for his friend to be happy. In all that time, Kimble had taken only three or four lovers besides himself. All of them were men and had beaten Kimble nearly senseless.
Kimble had a terrible, persistent problem. He had been taken in by Sabretooth years ago and introduced to violent sex. He had been broken at the time and because of that fracturing, had embraced the life of a submissive, growing to like being raped and physically abused. He saw it as being wanted and desired at a time when he felt he didn't deserve anything better. It appealed to his inner Siskan self, the one programmed to please and serve. Even after the repair, that corruption persisted and still came back to haunt Remy now and again. He would go out and come back to find an uncontrite Kimble covered in horrible bruises, an oddly contented look on his face. He and Wolverine often sent Kimble's lovers packing when they were eventually found out, but the Siskan didn't make it easy. He protected his abusers for as long as he was able.
This was a way of loving that Remy had never provided in their physical intimacy. Kimble had taught him so many things, talked him into doing things he never would have done with anyone else. Things he had never considered sane, much to Kimble's endless delight. That could never have been done without the level of trust he shared with this Siskan, one that had never faded. Kimble was eager to teach him new things and was a master at eroding most of Gambit's preconceived notions about what was simply too bizarre or outrageous. Remy was a willing and eager student, taking part in most of Kimble's lessons with little or no coercion, but he drew the line at physical or mental abuse. He could never hurt Kimble that way and in spite of Kimble's once requesting it, just couldn't do it. He failed to see the pleasure of it, of humiliating a sexual partner, and tried to get Kimble to see that this was just terribly wrong. Kimble would nod at him politely, but the next time a potential abuser presented himself elsewhere, Kimble was all over it. They never stayed, these secret lovers. Kimble just met them in some clandestine place and managed to keep it all a secret until it was all over.
Remy pleaded with Kimble to find someone a little more sane, someone who would thankfully take him off of his hands. He loved Kimble dearly, but the Siskan never settled down with anybody. How long was Kimble going to drift in limbo like this? It was almost painful to watch, this perpetual loneliness broken up by brutal one nighters once, maybe twice a year. Courtesans needed far more sexual attention than that to be happy, Kimble was merely settling for what he thought he could get. Even after all this time, Kimble didn't think he was worthy of a lover for real, Lakotashay's sense of self loathing and inadequacy still persisted.
It made Remy so very sad. Kimble was such a good person, a good soul deep on the inside, and he deserved so much better than this. He believed Kimble would thrive and mature under the hands of a true lover, one that wouldn't brutalize him or leave him as he himself had. He wanted so much more for his Siskan than Kimble was getting.
Kimble laughed again in his sleep and breathed Remy's name softly. His sensitive body had felt the thief's vibrations of love and affection and they warmed him, making his already pleasant dream that much better. Remy may have moved on, but Kimble surely hadn't. Gambit knew Kimble was still deeply in love with him and probably always would be. He had loved Remy enough to let him go. It was the only thing that had kept this strange three way relationship sane. Gambit had thankfully never been forced to chose between his two favorites. As much as he loved Kimble, he loved Molly more and Kimble knew it.
Remy continued to stare down at his former lover, his thoughts rambling around in his head, making him that much more late. He didn't really care. Kimble was a magnificent creature, a winged alabaster adonis laying here, so pleasantly relaxed. His long black hair was fanned out under him and glimmering in the light from the televison. A baby monitor was placed on the coffee table out in front of him, just in case.
Kimble was very protective of his young Mistress, she was never very far. Lately the Siskan had been nervous and agitated, Angel had begun going to school and he saw less of her. It was part of her growing up, but it unsettled him and he missed her terribly. Remy had been forced to give Kimble more of his time and affection, trying to get Kimble to understand this was part of life and he would just have to accept it. Today had been a good day, Kimble had been calm and his usual cheery self.
Remy gently arranged the blanket over the pilot, careful not to wake him, and clicked the television off. He shut off the lights and left, closing the door behind him.
Gambit walked briskly out to the oak tree, the meeting place of the team that was heading out tonight. The Xavier grounds were huge and mostly cleared by the house, but there was the one huge tree with the picnic table under it. It was where the teams most often gathered before departing. Of course he was late and the others were there waiting for him. He could see Jean and Rogue standing under the tree, talking to Logan who was crouched up in the branches, his frustration evident in the fact that he wasn't on the ground.
This group was a team and it was obvious in their dress. Logan wore black jeans and a black leather jacket with the X-men logo on the sleeve. The two women wore black leather jumpsuits with short black jackets as well. The leather was all worn in and flexible, fitting them like gloves and making it hard to see them in the black of night. All had the rugged boots and shoes of stealth and secrecy, safety was always a concern for the team and Charles saw to it his people were well equipped with whatever they needed.
Remy was the odd man out tonight. In his haste, he had grabbed his standard issue working gear and not the matching uniform he would have used in a group mission. Instead he had his typical long leather duster covered with pockets for all his tools and small objects for throwing. Under that he wore tight navy stretch pants and a long sleeved T-shirt with detachable gloves. Two fingers of each hand were left exposed, giving him the ability to charge anything in his hands with bio-kinetic energy while still protecting his fingers. Over his shirt, he wore a flexible Kevlar chest plate body armor. Of all the X-men, he was the only one who routinely wore body armor, he had enough scars on his body to show good reason for this.
When Wolverine saw Gambit approach, he dropped down from the tree and crushed out a cigarette he had been smoking. " 'Bout time ya showed up, Gumbo. We were startin' ta worry," he teased irritably in his low growl. He took in Remy's clothing and scowled. "Didn't bother ta gear up either?"
Gambit just gave him a wide Cajun grin. "Je suis de'sole, mon ami. Didn't mean to ruin de ensemble, eh? Gambit got a little sidetracked is all. Got everyt'ing I need right 'ere."
Logan gave him a sniff, not the least bit fooled by the excuse. "Blamin' Molly fer this one, too?"
Remy grinned sheepishly and shrugged with a loose shake of his shoulders. "She ovulatin', what can I say? You know we been tryin'."
"Uh, huh, right," Rogue drawled, coming closer. She was Remy's ex-girlfriend and had a fiery temper. Her mutation was both a blessing and a curse. One touch of her fingers and she could absorb your personality and memories, making her as powerful as any telepath. If she touched mutants, she absorbed their powers briefly. One such encounter left a permanent transfer, she was invulnerable and could fly, traits she had learned to master. She was a strong brawler and fierce protector of her teammates. Her relationshipwith Remy had been a stormy one and had left her bitter and scarred, they had made peace but she was still wounded and jealous of Molly. She teased the white streak in her hair with one gloved hand and chided with pure Mississippi sweetness, "That's the excuse you gave last week, Sugah. The way you two screw around it's a wonder you ain't got fifty kids already."
"That's enough, children," Logan grumbled. "Let's get movin'. Time's wastin'."
They made their way to the garage and piled into one of the Professor's black Explorers. Logan had taken charge of this little excursion so he was driving. The others all piled in the back and away they went. He took them on a twenty minute drive into city and brought them down to the waterfront. There were some empty warehouses here and small factory buildings, some occupied, some abandoned with smashed out windows. Wolverine pulled into a dimly lit area and parked close to the target, a small factory building a few yards to the left.
"So what we doin', patron?" Remy asked as he peered out the windows, trying to get a feel for the area. He was perfectly still, but was inwardly excited. The only thing better than a quick tumble with Molly was a successful "sneak-and- peek." He was still a thief at heart and always would be.
"Intel has it a small team of Jael's guys have been seen coming in and out of that buildin' right there for the past couple of days. Shakra's been sighted specifically so we know Jael has to be up to something. She's one of his main players and part of that group that just got busted out of jail. This is just a preliminary check. We go in, see if we can find out what they're up to. Our goal is not to engage the enemy, just find out what we can and leave," Logan explained. He turned next to the redhead in the back seat. "Jean, can you pick up anything?"
Jean closed her eyes and reached out with her power. She was born a master telepath, a superb reader of minds. She was also telekinetic which meant she, too, could fly. She had the added bonus of being able to move objects just by thinking about it. This ability allowed her to harden air with a mere thought and create powerful shields. She was one of the more experienced members of the X-men and a valuable player on this little trip. She focused on the building in question, trying to sense the mental presence of those within. "I'm picking up at least five people, all on the second floor. Looks like they're playing cards. One of them is watching the news. It's like they're waiting for something."
"Probably us," Rogue snorted.
"Don't be so pessimistic," Logan grunted. "They have no way of knowing we're here."
"Shakra's there and Razel, the teleporter," Jean continued. "We'll have to be careful."
Logan wasn't intimidated by the news, it wasn't like he didn't expect any complications. He knew that those two were high on Jael's roster and the point of that prison raid last week even though the whole building had been torched. He mumbled, "Let's go in, check out the other floors, see what we can find out. The Cajun 'n me'll go in low, you girls go in high."
"All righty, then," Rogue cheered and opened her door, eager to get this started. Like Remy she liked a good scrap and was happy to be out of the Mansion and working. She knew she was here for her flight capabilities but also because if things got dicey, she could pound the crap out of anyone who gave them any trouble. That invulnerability and extra strength gave her some level of arrogance, she was tall and confident and she got out of the truck and stretched a bit, cracking her neck. The others followed her out and they began.
Jean and Rogue leapt up to the sky in perfect unison. They had worked together often and didn't need Jean's telepathy to move in sync with one another. They took off towards the building, taking in all the information they could gather from above.
Logan and Gambit crept up to the chain link fence that surrounded the factory, looking for a way in that wasn't going to make too much noise. The fence in front of them was high and wrapped with barbed wire. Whoever worked here clearly didn't want visitors.
Trying to keep this quiet, Wolverine took out a small spray can of an acid mixture that was made just for special occasions like this. He used the acid to spray the fence in a wide circle and then pushed on the door he had made, breaking away the piece of fence in the middle and laying it down. He'd had years of black operations and special forces training in his younger days. He put that knowledge to use now in the service of mutant/human peace. Like Remy, he was the master of stealth and infiltration. His entry made almost no sound.
Remy slipped through the opening Logan had made, careful not to snag his coat on the jagged edges left behind. He smiled in the darkness as Logan moved just as silently beside him. They walked two paces before he heard Wolverine sharply whisper, "Dogs!"
A moment later he heard the click of their nails on the pavement. These beasts were otherwise silent, their vocal cords cut to make them so. In the old days, Wolverine would have been the one to take this challenge head on, silencing the new arrivals forever with his sharp Adamanitum claws. Over the years, the evolving dynamics of the team — and Gambit — had changed that.
Logan waited and watched as Gambit took a step forward, his arms outstretched toward the animals in a peaceful show of surrender. Remy smiled, his red on black eyes gleaming as he saw them come, two large German Shepard mixed breeds. He took a deep breath and reached out with his mind, sending out a powerful vibration of playfulness and fun. / 'Ey, dere, fellas. Gambit's yo' friend. Wanna play, eh?
They came closer, their shines sparkling angrily in the black. / Get out! Go away! You don't belong here!
Part of his being blessed with the Kundatesh meant that Remy had the ability to see the auras or shines of other living creatures. If it was alive, it had a glow. Someone trained in the art of reading shines could tell a person's mood and intentions from a distance, just by reading the color of their shine. It was a useful tool that Remy had mastered and learned to use to his advantage.
Remy stayed as he was. / Gambit's yo' friend. He love you like de worl'. Wanna play?
The dogs slowed their pace, confused. They approached him and he knelt down to their level. He reached out with his hands and they sniffed at him, their tails starting to wag playfully. One noticed Wolverine and showed its teeth in an angry snarl. Remy turned the dog's head back to face him. / 'E's wit me, it's okay. Got sumptin' fo you. 'Ungry?
/ Hungry, yes. What you got?
Remy took a small wrapped package from his pocket. He had brought some hotdogs laced with sedatives. He wouldn't hurt these animals if he didn't have to, he certainly would do everything to keep Logan from killing them. If Wolverine had come alone, that most likely would've happened. He lay the package down and they ate their treats greedily, their tails wagging while Remy petted them gently.
Wolverine stood quietly by, waiting patiently. He had rarely seen Remy use his power so openly like this before and he was always a bit awed by it. They all knew that he had the empathy now, that it had come from Kimble somehow. It was just weird to see it used so powerfully like this. These dogs had been prepared to kill them, it was what they had been trained for. They would never have accepted this meat from a stranger, either. He was pleased, he never liked killing animals but accepted it as part of life.
Remy stayed as he was, gently petting the dogs until they grew wobbly and fell asleep, one of them practically in his lap. He lay them down carefully and they moved on.
Remy and Logan crept up to the building, there was a door here by the corner. Wolverine peeked through the glass, saw all was clear, and waved Remy closer. The thief was there, lockpicks in hand. He silently worked the door and they slipped inside, shutting the door behind them.
The first floor of this building was wide and open, made for factory use. It was almost completely empty except for some large wooden crates stacked to one side. The floor was swept and clean, this was not an abandoned warehouse not in use, there had been some activity very recently here. Logan made his way to the crates and sniffed softly, using his animal keen sense of smell to try and guess what was inside. He scowled when he picked up the scent of gun oil and plastique. There's guns and explosives in here, he said to Remy, using his hands to form silent words in the dark.
There were some advantages in having someone disabled like Molly coming into their fold. They all knew sign language now and often used it in missions like this. Both Logan and Remy could see almost perfectly in the dark, so this form of communication was valuable.
There's some labels on these crates. If we can find an office, maybe we can check these against a manifest or something.
I think there's an office over there, Remy replied, gesturing to a row of doors to the back.
Let's go.
They made their way across the huge room to the doors, their boots silent on the clean floor. They were fortunate that security here was light. There were no cameras and no guards, something that nagged at the back of Logan's mind. This was almost too easy. He paused outside an office door, sitting silently while Remy picked the lock. He was quiet, but was still communicating, this time telepathically with Jean outside. You girls pick up anything?
Not a thing, Jean replied. We got some panel trucks, but they're empty. The gang is still on second floor. You're clear.
Thanks, babe. Keep in touch.
Remy made a soft questioning noise beside him, he was ready to go in. All four of them were linked telepathically by Jean on this mission, he had heard the conversation between Logan and Jean as if they were all still back in the car.
Logan nodded and inside they went.
The office was neat and tidy, obviously still in use. Wolverine started checking out the papers on the desk, his almost perfect night vision allowing him to scan the pages without the benefit of a flashlight.
He could see rental agreements and bills with a forwarding address. He took out a small camera and began photographing them. He would take these pictures back to Seth for analysis.
Gambit meanwhile was working the filing cabinets stacked nearby, using another lockpick to tease them open. This sort of work always gave him a thrill. He was like a god, moving with ease through the locked doors of this place, making them give up their secrets. He slid open one last drawer, this one labeled, "Shipping manifests", and gave a hiss of surprise as a blast of damp air came up into his face. He was falling and already losing consciousness when he heard Logan snarl, "It's a trap!"
(break)
Remy came awake a few minutes later, his eyes burning from the bright lights above. He could tell by the cement floor beneath him that they were probably still in the warehouse and on the first floor. He was still drowsy from the gas and all of his limbs felt weak as if he had been tied down with lead weights. One small shift in position verified that he had been tied with hard wire, his hands and feet bound tightly. He squinted in confusion when he sensed the presence of someone beside him. He could see the faint glimmer of a blue shine and taste the scent of...Kundatesh? He opened his eyes a bit wider and looked up into the pale blue eyes of an unknown Siskan hologram. He gasped softly in surprise, Siskans were rare and empathic ones even rearer still. He had no idea why she should be here.
What is dis? he asked to his silent partner within.Shi'ow-ri? Is she real?
The answer came not from the Whisperer inside his mind, but from the female sitting beside him. She was breathtakingly beautiful as were all Siskan 'grams, blonde and dressed only in a thong, her nudity a sign of her place in this world. She was here to serve, to obey. Her Mark was clearly visible, a bright red woman laying along a long black sword graced the flesh of her torso. She smiled down at him as she silently replied, / Yes, I am Siskan. /
/ What you doin' 'ere?
For that, she dared to speak out loud in her native tongue. Some thoughts were much too complicated to be expressed through their empathic connection. "You are the human with the Kundatesh. The Gifted One. Word of you has spread through the harem. There is hope that you will come and rescue us before the Master kills us all," her voice little more than a hushed whisper, she didn't want to be overheard.
"Eh? What?" Remy mumbled in Siskan, his surprise at the threat making him speak out loud. Gifted one? Kill us all? He had no clue what she was talking about, only that it sounded bad. "What you say, chere?"
She leaned a bit closer and whispered, "You must come and save us all. Only three remain."
She wouldn't be allowed to say anything further. A dark shadow blocked out the light as an all too familiar face blocked out the light. The big brown wings and long dangling Mohawk ponytail was a clear giveaway - Marcus was here. Like Razel and Shakra he had been freed from the SHIELD prison and all happy to start trouble. His presence here completed the ring of Jael's elite crew and their full compliment could only mean bad things on the horizon. He was snarling at the Siskan now, "No talking! Is he drained of power?"
"Yes, my Lord," the Siskan replied, her eyes down and shoulders slumped. She was submissive to this man and she wouldn't argue. Her fingers still lay next to those of the thief beside her and she touched him long enough to send, / Help us! Save us!
Remy groaned, shivering from the pain and desperation in her plea. Her emotions of pain and misery were more than he could bear in his weakened state and he couldn't even fumble a reply. He realized now just why she was here. Siskan Courtesans required energy to feed, the same as he produced naturally in his body. She was here to feed on him and like she had said, had drained him nearly dry. It made him weak, groggy, and unable to fight.
He turned his head and blinked through watering eyes as he tried to figure out what was going on. Wolverine lay beside him, bound and tied just as he was. The telekinetic Marcus had used wire hangers to tie their wrists beyond tight, more securely than any pair of handcuffs. Logan was half in the bag, stoned on more than the gas that had been used back in the office. His skin was peppered with small needle like darts, gifts from Shakra who sat on a stool behind him. His eyes were half open and a long sliver of drool dripped from his mouth to the floor. He was trying to wake, trying to throw off the drugs with his healing factor, but Shakra wasn't allowing it. If he stirred or gave any sign of moving, she plucked another dart from her arm and shot him with it, injecting him with her powerful neuro-toxins. Poor Wolverine was wasted and of no use to anyone.
Another quick glance revealed that Shakra and Marcus weren't alone. A small group of their mutant friends were standing idly by, awaiting orders. Jean's tally had been a little off. He could see at least six of them just hanging around watching the show. Even if he managed to free himself, he'd never be able to fight his way out of here. It would be up to his cunning. Good thing he had plenty of that.
Shakra noticed Gambit's movement and smiled down at him. "Hey, LeBeau. Long time no see."
"Bonjour. Always a pleasure seein' you again, petite," he rasped dryly, his mouth all numb. It didn't stop him from teasing, "But yo' methods a little extreme neh? Now you know if you wanted Gambit all tied up fo' you, all you 'ad to do was ask."
"Right, like you would just lie down and do me right here. Heard you got yourself a little wifie now, married some dog faced little girl ugly as sin. For shame, LeBeau, I'd've figured you could have gotten something a little better."
He just snorted at her. "I'd t'ink a cosmetically challenged fille like yo'self would understand dere's mo' to life dan a pretty face, eh? Fuck a pretty t'ing anytime, but Gambit, he marry wit 'is 'eart, 'e marry fo' life."
Remy didn't know Shakra that well, but he could guess that someone with her mutation might have a hard time with men. Why wouldn't she? She was covered with poisonous darts. Her comments about Molly had come from her jealousy and he had just thrown it back in her face. She scowled slightly and he knew he had been right about her. "Perhaps if she values you enough, she'll give us what we want."
"Oh, yeah? And what's dat, chere? Mebbe we could work sumptin' out instead, you an' me."
"You're coming back with us to Jael's. He's going to bargain you for Kimble."
Remy tried to hide the surge of adrenalin that surged right through him at the words. There had been a few serious attempts on stealing Kimble from the house over the years, but Kimble had been too well protected. Jael was a player in the Game and Kimble a valuable prize. Looked like Jael was getting frustrated by his lack of progress in acquiring the Siskan, he was changing tack.
"It won' work," Gambit argued, looking at her like she was an idiot. "Chuck don' bargain fo' nobody. Not even fo' t'ieves as 'andsome as me. Gonna 'afta do better 'n dat, fille."
"If he won't, I suppose there might be someone else there who will. Your little wifie perhaps?"
"She an X-man. She know de score," Remy replied confidently, hoping to dissuade his captors. He laid on the charm, smiling up at her cleverly and purring, "She ain't gonna do nuthin' fo' you. C'mon, chere. Surely we can work sumptin' out, Gambit's a reasonable guy. Untie me an' we'll discuss dis like reasonable lunatics, d'accorde?"
It wasn't going to work, Remy could see that by the confidence in her arrogant little smile. She turned the rays of that malevolent smirk towards him as she addressed her comrade, "I don't think he's getting it, Marcus. He thinks they won't bargain for him, the silly boy. Sometimes all it takes is the right incentive. They'll bargain for blood. Won't they, darling?"
"Oh, yeah," Marcus replied with a grin. He had been leaning over the fallen thief and as he straightened, Remy could see that was holding a golf club in his hands. Gambit watched with horror as Marcus next swung the golf club at him, smashing the large bone in his left thigh with one vicious stroke.
Remy howled in pain, unable to keep silent in spite of all his training. He had always had an excellent tolerance for pain, never wanting to give satisfaction to those who might be torturing him at the time, but this was too much. Wolverine jerked from beside him, roused from his stupor by the scream, but Shakra shot him again with more darts, keeping him quiet. Remy was on his own.
Marcus swung at him again, this time below the knee, and Gambit screamed again. He called out telepathically, desperate for help. Jean! Rogue! Need you right fuckin' now!
I'm on my way! Jean replied from outside the warehouse, coming to his aid. She was fast, but it would still take her a minute to get here.
Marcus triumphantly dropped the golf club, now wet from Gambit's blood. Remy was shaking violently, his leg one huge agony. When he saw Razel step closer, Jael's personal teleporter, he knew he had to act and it had to be now. They said they were going to take him out of here and he had no reason to doubt them. He couldn't wait for Jean and Rogue to figure anything out in the meantime.
"Fuck you!" Remy snarled and let loose with a large burst of Kundatesh, willing it to obey him.
Using the Kundatesh this way was always a risky undertaking. It was empathy, but it was also a force of its own, a kind of potent emotional energy that with enough talent, could be used as a weapon. He had never used his power like this, not in a crowd anyhow, and he wasn't sure just what would happen. He didn't have that much control, but that might be a good thing. What he wanted was confusion and chaos. He got just what he asked for, just not in the way he had planned.
The Kundatesh spread quickly in the room, an invisible predator, infecting all here with panic and terror. Shakra rose to her feet in shock with a strangled cry, her body going into a defensive mode and shooting off darts in all directions. The fear was Remy's and as such, labeled her teammates as targets. Half of them hit the floor, taken out from her darts.
The sound of their falling was drowned out by an ever increasing roar, Wolverine had been infected by Remy's blast of Kundatesh as well.
"Oh, merde!" Remy groaned. "Dis is goan' be real bad, kids!"
The X-men were quite a crew. An eclectic bunch of fellows, all with their own "unique" talents — and dispositions. Logan, well... He was a power unto himself. His animalistic abilities didn't stop with his senses. When overly distressed, he could at times "devolve" back into that animal, becoming feral and quite savage. Remy's emotions had slammed into his already clouded mind, filling him with only the most basic of thoughts - Escape, Punish, Destroy.
The fear cranked up Logan's survival mode and his healing factor as his adrenalin surged. The power of Shakra's drugs faded quickly and he twisted, lashing out at her stool with his feet and using it to knock her to the floor. The nearest guard now out of commission, he popped his claws on both hands and hacked at his feet, unmindful of his own blood as he sawed away at the wiring there, freeing his legs. Within seconds, he was on his feet and slashing at the crowd with his claws, eager to punish those who had dared to confine him.
Along with his Adamantium skeleton, Logan possessed six large claws, metal blades were hidden in his forearms, but could be "popped" or extended at will past his wrists and out through his hands, always a bit of a shocker to the first time viewer. He had been born with these claws as natural bony weapons and when the Canadian government coated his skeleton with Adamantium, these claws were enhanced into indestructible blades of death. Three to an arm, they were his primary weapon of choice and using them was second nature to him.
Wolverine's current captors had foolishly left his hands bound to the front and he wasn't hampered in the least by the fact that those hands were still joined at the wrists by wire. He was an efficient killer and when lost in the rage as he was now, twenty times deadlier than any rabid dog. The Kundatesh had brought out the animal in him and it was now loose, a deadly engine of destruction lashing out at the nearest target.
Remy cursed as he writhed in agony on the floor. Sure, he had wanted a distraction, but a murderous Wolverine hadn't been exactly what he had had in mind. This was turning into an ugly mess and unfortunately there wasn't anything he could do about it. It was now possible that not all of Jael's men were going to leave here alive. Gambit wasn't strong enough to free himself from his bonds and he could already feel himself growing fuzzy from shock. The whole left side of his body was numb and he could hardly move.
"Let's bail!" Razel shouted and grabbed at the Siskan female. He was quite familiar with Wolverine and what he was capable of. This mission was a complete wreck and he wasn't about to leave one of Jael's most prized possessions to be taken or destroyed inadvertently. More than that, he wasn't about to stick around long enough to get skewered himself. Razel was a powerful teleporter - he could transport large groups from one place to another as long as they could touch him. His only limitation was that he could only move what he was in contact with. He winked out in a flash of light with the Siskan girl, not caring who he left behind.
"Leavin' so soon?" Rogue chimed in as she came down from the loft above. She and Jean, the cavalry du jour, had arrived. They were here, but at a loss as to what was happening. They didn't know what Gambit had done, they could only witness the aftermath with a kind of bewildered horror. Jael's people were either passed out on the floor from Shakra's darts or running around, shrieking in terror as Wolverine pursued them, foam pouring from his mouth while he slashed at them in a crazed frenzy.
Marcus at least had some pack loyalty in him. He snatched for Shakra, beating her down with his large feathered wings in an attempt to stop her from shooting him with her quills. He could block her attack with a telekinetic shield, the same tactic he was using now in order to be able to touch her without being poisoned. He snatched at her and took off, heading for the loft and hopefully a way out. Jean met him halfway and they clashed telekinetically, a silent but mind numbing battle. Invisible hands battled in mid air as they pushed against one another.
Marcus was losing, he had his physical hands full with his teammate and he wasn't the greatest at multi-tasking under pressure. "Let me go, you bitch!" he demanded, just wanting to flee. "It's over!"
"Not a chance!"
Jean smacked at him again and he had no choice but to drop Shakra down. His hands now free, he came at Jean more fiercely, but was stopped by a cry from below. Razel had found some courage. He had returned and had a hand on Shakra's shoulder, doing his best to avoid her quills. "Get the hell out of there!"
Marcus didn't argue, he turned tail and ran, using his telekinetic power to blast a hole through the wall to get to the outside. It was loud and destructive, the neighbors were sure to notice and call the police. They were running out of time. When Razel saw Marcus had gone, he vanished with Shakra, leaving in a flash of light.
Jean didn't follow Marcus though she could have. Their mission here hadn't been to capture and she still had teammates battling below. Rogue had squared off against two men who foolishly thought that since she was a woman and on the small side they could take her easily. She came at them with her fists and showed them just how wrong they were. All the X-men had strict hand to hand combat training and Logan had taught her well. A few well placed punches had them down and out on the floor in a heap.
The fight was mostly done, but Logan had to be contained. He was still going at it full steam, his claws red from the blood of his victims. He had mangled two of them quite badly and was working on a third when she came up from behind him and swept him off of his feet. She could see he had gone crazy from something and needed to be calmed down. She embraced him tightly and used her telepathy to flood his mind with soothing thoughts. "Easy, Logan. It's over."
He struggled at first, but then gradually calmed as she dissipated his Kundatesh induced rage. This wasn't the first time she'd had to do this for him and it felt comfortingly familiar, enough that he didn't fight it at all, but let the rage just dissipate freely. He blinked around him in confusion, he had no memory of anything since they had been dropped in the office by the gas. "Wh-what the fuck's goin' on?" he mumbled blearily, blinking rapidly as he tried to regain focus. The mission. They had been here for a reason.
Jean dropped them down to the ground lightly, still holding Wolverine up as he bobbled on rubbery legs. He was still a little numb from Shakra's poison. "You and Remy got jumped. You went feral."
He glanced around him, stiffening when he saw the bodies and the blood. Whatever they had been for here this night, it was gone now, washed away in blood and rage. Two of Jael's men lay brutally butchered and would not be returning home to their Master. He might have felt bad at his own violence, but his hands that were still wired together told him otherwise. That and the soft cries of pain coming from his teammate.
The thief was on his side, groaning in misery and gripping his leg. Rogue had abandoned what was left of the fight to come next to him and was cradling his head in her lap. She had freed his trapped limbs and was doing her best to soothe him. Even from the short distance away, Logan could hear the real concern in her voice. They might not be together as a couple, but she still cared for Remy deeply and always would. The sight of him so ready to cry was enough to bring her own tears to the fore.
His head now cleared, Logan could smell the blood and saw the weapon Marcus had used laying on floor nearby. He moved away from Jean to reach for it, but paused when he heard the sound of approaching sirens. "We got company. We gotta get out here."
Jean went to Remy trying to get an idea of his condition. His pants were ripped where he had been struck and she didn't like the odd angle of his foot, his leg was clearly broken. He was shaking now, trembling from shock and involuntary tears were streaming down his cheeks, though he was doing his manly best not to hitch and cry. He was in agony. Jean used her telekinetic power to create a flat shield of hardened air and slipped it under her teammate, using it like a backboard. She then floated him up and they all towed him out the Explorer, trying to move as fast as they could before the police arrived. Too late, the first cruiser was just pulling up as they got to the car.
Jean set Gambit down easy and took a step towards the cruiser as it pulled in next to them. Two cops jumped out, guns raised. "You there! Hands in the air!"
"You don't see me," Jean replied calmly, focusing her telepathy on the two men. Her telepathy was just as powerful as her ability to make shields and fly. She was a true witch and had no fear as she took control of everything. She wasn't one to pry onto the minds of others but that didn't mean she wasn't above coercion in a matter such as this. Her voice was strong and clear as she demanded, "You don't see me or my teammates. This car isn't here."
The two policemen gasped in surprise, bewildered. What was going on?
"You need to check out that building over there. That's why you're here," she continued, her voice calm and soothing. She smiled with pride as the two cops turned away from her and ran towards the building, their minds wiped clean.
"Let's move!" Logan growled, more than ready to be done with this. What a disaster.
Getting the wounded thief in the car was a bit of a challenge. They ended up laying him on the back seat while Rogue piled into the hatch. Gambit cried out in pain and complained sharply as he was moved, his long legs now an unfortunate disability. His clear lack of humor with the situation only made the others more nervous. If he was in too much pain to mouth off, he was in serious trouble. Jean was forced to use her telepathy on him as well, calming him down into a light sleep. She brushed the tears of pain from his cheeks, always saddened when one of their own fell in battle.
"Molly's gonna pissed when she sees this!" Rogue commented wryly, doing her best not to show just how much she was worried. "Best be hopin' she was ovulatin' for real tonight, this boy ain't gonna be no use for her now!"