Disclaimer: I do not own the X-Men or the related characters and places. Marvel does.
"Remy just come over, it will be fine," Rogue said for the umpteenth time, clicking her black-painted nails against the tabletop, the black portable phone hugged between her neck and her shoulder.
"How can it be fine Rogue? I almost blew up Storm," Remy's stressed patois sounded over the line.
"I'm sure she'll be fine. Just apologize to her or something," Rogue said, sorting through her cache of silver rings on her dresser top.
"Apologize?"
"Yeah, ya know that thing you're supposed to do when ya do something wrong," she said sarcastically.
"Rogue, I was doing m' job," he said quietly.
Rogue paused and frowned into the phone, seeing her boyfriend in the abstract as an enemy had been one thing, seeing the reality had been quiet another. For a moment when Storm was falling, and she knew Gambit was the cause, she'd been well and truly afraid of him. But the battle had broken up so quickly she wasn't sure what had happened.
And later, patching themselves up with a little assistance from some medical equipment light-years ahead of the American Medical Association, the professor had pulled her aside to let it be known he didn't blame Gambit. Scott and the others had taken more convincing to dial down their anger, but a quick session of role reversal had them all shame-faced. The fact that Storm had made a full recovery had certainly helped the Cajun's case.
Rogue shook herself from her fugue and gave Remy her full attention, "It'll be okay I promise."
"Really?"
"Really, really."
"Why don' me and y' go visit de park or somethin'. Then we don' have to worry 'bout anybody else."
"Gambit just come over will ya? Nobody will say anything. The quicker we get this over with, the better."
"We," Gambit muttered mutinously.
"Yes, we. As in, we are in this together Gambit. I thought ya knew that."
"Storm's still probably laid up somewhere, Wolverine stalkin' de halls..."
"Storm is fine, Remy."
"T'anks for tryin' to make me feel better, but chere, I know de amount of charge I used, an' I saw her hit de ground hard."
"She's alright really. I swear."
"Dat soon?" Gambit asked suspiciously. With the amount of force from the dual explosions she'd suffered, he was sure she'd be laid up for weeks.
"X-Men heal fast," was her elusive answer.
"Yeah, dat'd be nice," he murmured.
"So are you coming over or not?" Rogue finally asked, tired of leading him around the conversation.
"Are you kidding, dey'll crucify me over dere."
"I promise no one's waiting to ambush ya. Just bring ya butt over here."
"Everyone jus' happy go lucky over dere eh?"
"The X-Men are very forgiving people," she defended them.
"Yeah I'll be sure to pass dat memo on to Alvers."
"That was different, the brotherhood was always trying to hurt…"
"Exactly, what makes what I did any different chere? What do dey want from me?" he asked, his voice suddenly quieter.
"They don't want anything from ya. They want things for ya. And I want ya to be here, so just pass on the bullshit and get over here."
"Why aren't y' mad at me?" he asked, seemingly blown away by her acceptance of him.
"I am, a little. I don't see why ya feel the need to stay with him, with them. They're criminals. But if there is one thing I have learned with the X-Men, it's team loyalty. I understand that, even if it's not for the team I'd like it to be. Now get your Cajun-carcass over here."
Rogue huffed, her hand extended out behind her. She'd spent the better part of her morning convincing Gambit to brave the lion's den, and now she had to resort to physically pulling Gambit by the arm.
"Come on, scaredy cat, nobody attacked ya at the door did they?" she said forcing him a few more steps past the living room.
"Non, but dere's still time," he added worriedly, biting on his lower lip. "Where we goin'?"
"Outside, Kurt is trying to get Scott to help him fence. It's hilarious," she said as the glassed patio door and the ridiculously bright afternoon sun loomed into view.
"I just blew de third in command outta de sky, an' y' want me to go where dey have swords? Y' nuts," he said, and finally began pulling backwards, latching onto the furniture.
"It'll be fine," she said exasperated. Her green eyes suddenly widened, "Oh hi Storm."
With one arm anchored to Rogue, Gambit tried to whirl around but the female Southerner took advantage of his off-balance position to pull him through the patio door.
"Made ya look," she sniggered.
"Not funny, Rogue," Gambit replied letting his bangs settle over his brown eyes.
"Was ta me," the Southern Goth said with a sparkle in her eye. "Listen, Gambit. Seriously. Everyone just wants to forget it happened. I do too. We can go back to how it was. Everything will be okay."
"If y' say fine, or okay one more time…"
"Alright," she said with a half-malicious grin she'd picked up from him, "Promise not to, let's go."
"Pyro's was convinced that I'd turn into a pile of ash de second I walked in de door," Gambit admitted, still unwilling to trust that his actions had been swept under the rug.
"Well ya haven't. I told ya there was nothing to worry about. So come on, relax a little, don't be so tense."
"I'm not tense," he immediately defended, struggling to move his shoulders out of their locked position.
The metallic scratch of swords drew the couple in and they found the other X-Men in a clearing a short distance into the woods bordering Xavier's estate. Two huge oaks guarded either side of their impromptu ring shading the temporary combatants.
"Ack, I almost got it," Kurt said chagrined. "Scott I need you to come at me like this," he said demonstrating with his rapier.
"That's what I did," Scott said looking perplexed underneath his red glasses.
"No it's not," said Kurt getting frustrated. "You did this," he said showing another maneuver.
"Man Kurt, sorry, it looks the same to me. Why don't you wait till Logan gets home and he can help you with it," Cyclops suggested.
"I have to learn it on my own before he'll show me the next move, but I can't practice it without someone else to practice against," Kurt said frustrated tapping the rapier against his right thigh.
Rogue and Remy had been watching the fencing practice with interest as they neared and Rogue poked Remy in the shoulder. "Go help him."
"I don' know how to fence," he protested.
"It's really easy," Kurt said jumping at the chance for a new body. "Besides you don't need to learn everything, at once, just this one sequence."
"Fencing isn't really my thing."
"Come on Remy, I've seen you with a bo stick, you could pick this up in no time," Cyclops said.
"T'anks for de vote of confidence, but I t'ink I'll sit dis one out, it's so much fun watchin' y get sliced an' diced Summers. An' I wouldn' want to leave my Rougie alone," the Cajun smirked.
"Go ahead Gambit, I'm not gonna wither away and die if you're not next to me every moment," Rogue said. 'Sides I wouldn't mind seeing a sliced and diced Cajun."
"Take a rain check, chere."
"Come on Gambit," Scott cajoled offering up his borrowed rapier.
"Sorry, I jus' really want to relax right now," Gambit said, plopping onto the grass as if to prove his point.
"Jeez Gambit, can't you help me out for like six seconds," Kurt complained.
"No."
"Re—"
"Kurt I said no!" Gambit finally shouted, his features tight.
"What's your problem Gambit?" Cyclops asked.
"Nothing, I'm sorry," Remy said backpedaling, "I just can' help."
"Why not? Too good to help me?" Kurt asked. "Look I realize I'm not exactly Acolyte material, but that doesn't mean you have to totally diss me."
"Shit Kurt, it's not y'. I jus' can't help anybody wit' training."
"What?"
"Y' guys, de prof an' everybody… dey made rules for when I visit here right? Well I got a second list of rules to follow if I wanna make de trip. An' one of de conditions is dat I'm not allowed to help y' guys train to become better fighters. Kinda counter-productive y'know."
"So you can't train with us?" asked Kurt, the tip of his light sword draggin in the ground, his tail twisting behind him.
"Dat's what I said, I ain' really supposed to help y' do anything really."
"What if one of us was choking on a peanut?" Rogue joked.
"It's not funny," said Gambit, an undercut of anger deep in his voice.
"Lighten up, Remy, not everything is life and death," Rogue said trying to put a restraining hand on his knee.
"So says de Goth."
"Well?" said Kurt.
"Well what?"
"I was about to go into the kitchen and ingest a potato chip, anything I should know?" asked Kurt impishly a quick grin stretching his face.
"Yeah, eat very small bites."
"Remy, if you would come in here for a few moments?" Xavier questioned politely catching a fleeting glimpse of the red haired thief as he breezed past the entrance to his study.
"Actually, I'm on my way out. Been a long night," Gambit said hovering just inside the entrance. His conversation, after the initial awkwardness with Cyclops and Nightcrawler, had actually gone quite well. Much better than he expected, or perhaps even deserved.
"I'm afraid it is quite important," the Professor said sternly.
"When isn't it important wit' y'," Remy muttered rebelliously wandering in and dropping down in a chair, suspiciously eyeing the artificial plant behind Xavier's desk to see if it was large enough to hide a restraint-challenged Wolverine. Gambit had been waiting for the other shoe to drop since he passed the gates to the mansion earlier in the day, and it had finally arrived albeit in the unusual form of the bald-headed telepath.
"I'd like you to undergo a physical exam," Xavier stated primly.
"Excuse me?" Remy asked impetuously, his earlier relaxation vanishing as he stared the X-Men's mentor down.
"Like I said, I would like you to submit to an exam. It will be relatively quick and painless. And of course I will keep the information confidential."
"Y' out of y' mind Xavier."
"Gambit we had an agreement were you would be cooperative. I've done my fair share of turning the other way, and our doctor—"
"No homme, y' can' keep doin' dis, addin' stipulations to my relationship wit' Rogue. It ain't fair y' keep changin' de rules," he said darkly.
"I am merely suggesting it, afterall, you have had quite a lot of injuries of late."
Gambit's right hand instinctively twitched as he refrained from checking the short cut he had on his scalp, certain his hair covered it enough to render it unnoticeable, "Yeah, y' in de business Xavier, it happens," he said feigning indifference.
"I have quite of few children and X-Men under my care, and none of them come home so regularly with injuries. I'm just want to make sure you are not doing yourself permanent damage."
"What y' think I'm doing dis to myself?" Gambit asked in disbelief clutching the wooden chair arms.
"Well you said it's not training or missions, or your teammates. What else could it be?" Xavier asked with a penetrating stare.
"I can't tell y' 'bout it."
"Who can you tell?" Xavier questioned softly. "You know that I will do everything in my power to protect you from—"
"Fine, I did it to myself. Slipped in de shower," Gambit said, hiking himself out of Xavier's plush chair and striding away, his carefully blank face marred with a twinge of worry.
A/N: So… my vacation was a lot longer than I intended. I picked up a writing internship which has sucked up my time and siphoned out every drop of creativity I have. Apologies for those of you waiting on this story; there are about three or four chapters left.
Thanks beyond measure for reviewing: Aethena, BlkDiamond, BJ2, Chica De Los Ojos Cafe, Clownfood, coldqueen, Dark Elf 3, Elmothecajunpuppet, Gambit's Belle Rogue, gryphenvoid, Ima Super Mute Ant, ishandahalf, IvyZoe, Kitsu Lebeau, lelann37, Lumberjane, N.M.C.L, Nettlez, Puppybaddog, Samson28, Streetwise Girl, sheisbeautiful-sheisnotme, Shifting1, tinuviel-telcontar, Wildcard186, and X-Storm.
