~ oOo ~

New York City, New York

The Past, Yesterday

The scuff of a booted foot on gravel signaled the presence of the unwanted guest. Gambit turned his head slightly towards the source of the sound, knowing it had been made purposefully so that he would not be startled by the new arrival. Catching a glimpse of the man standing over his shoulder, Gambit's mouth momentarily pressed into a grim line. The Devil had appeared, standing just close enough so as to not seem an immediate threat, but within reach should Gambit decide to do something drastic and irrational.

"Awful far from your usual stompin' grounds, ain't you?" Gambit asked, his tone dry. "Hell's dat-a way," he said and pointed downward to the street far below. Gambit resented the other's undesired presence, this intrusion on his plans. Gambit was seated with his shoulders slouched, hair falling forward over his face. Beside him on the concrete ledge were three playing cards lying face down so the familiar red Bicycle Standard deck pattern was shown.

"I heard there was a jumper," the Devil responded. He stood with legs apart, knees slightly bent, his weight falling on the balls of his feet as if readying himself to face an opponent across a boxing ring. The Devil held his arms loosely to his sides, attempting to look casual. One hand held a thick folder of documents. Gambit ignored him, and turned over one of the cards and regarded it. The Devil couldn't see what had captivated the thief's attention.

"You oughta get your ears checked, Diable," Gambit said. His hands moved to wrap around the neck of a bottle he clutched between his thighs. "I think you heard wrong."

Gambit was seated on the cement ledge of the building's rooftop; it was night and the twinkling city of New York lay before him like an open jewelry box. It was almost as if he could reach out and wrap his arms around it, take it all in one last greedy embrace.

The Devil cocked his head to the side and the corner of his lip twitched. "I assure you, my hearing is excellent," the Devil responded.

"Well, consider yourself misinformed then," Gambit responded, making no secret of his irritation. "Wouldn't be de first time." Gambit adjusted his seat on the roof's edge to lean forward and glance at the street below. He then turned over a second playing card and looked at it.

"About that...," the Devil began reluctantly. "I wanted to apologize. To you."

Now the thief tilted his head as if he had misheard, tapping his right ear with his forefinger. Gambit turned to fully regard the Devil with his bright red eyes, bringing his left leg to extend even further over the empty expanse before him. "Beg pardon?" Gambit asked, genuinely perplexed.

Who needs their hearing checked now? The Devil had to bite back his words. The Devil sighed to himself, a slow inhalation and exhalation of breath. It galled him to have to admit to this person, this arrogant, cocky thief that he had been in the wrong. But under current circumstances, it seemed necessary. And the Devil felt rather guilty for the role he had played in this whole affair; as if he didn't have enough to feel remorseful about.

"I said," the Devil began, carefully annunciating his words, "that I apologize."

The sounds of traffic drifted on the mildly warm updraft from the streets below, catching Gambit's hair and lifting it back from his face for a moment. Two of the cards at Gambit's side rose up and fluttered away into the night, the past and the present, leaving one card behind. Above, wisps of clouds scudded across the deep navy sky. The open air was an invitation beneath Gambit's dangling legs. Gambit turned away from the Devil to look back at the city once more. He drummed his heels against the side of the building as his hands worked at the neck of the bottle, rocking the cork in its throat back and forth.

"Hm. An apology," Gambit finally said and his hands stilled on the bottle. "Well, now I've heard everything."

The Devil put a hand on his hip. "I understand what you must be going through. Trust me, I can relate. However, speaking from experience, I feel I should warn you before you decide to do anything else stupid."

"You're just sore at me for hornin' in on your turf," Gambit quipped, his tone glib.

"Har dee har," the Devil responded, and touched one of the horns on his head with a fingertip. He then shifted the folder of documents from one hand to the other. "Listen. I have something for you–."

Gambit lifted the last card, the one that hadn't blown away. He looked at it for a long moment. "Do you know what this means?" he asked.

The Devil hesitated. He faced forward, his head turned towards the card Gambit held aloft. "No," he finally said. "What does it mean?"

Gambit tapped the card's edge against the concrete. "Some say it's de card of death. But them's the glass-half-empty types," Gambit replied. He had resumed his focus on the city beyond, his eyes taking a long, slow journey up and down the street below.

"What do you say it is?" the Devil asked.

"It means an ending," Gambit responded.

"Death is a pretty definitive ending," the Devil said and slowly took a step forward.

Gambit quirked a brow at him. "Really? And here I pegged you for a believer. What about de hereafter? Life after death?"

The Devil stilled. "I didn't come up here to talk...about that, Gambit."

Gambit laughed ruefully and shook his head. "Afraid of what awaits in de great beyond, Diable? I'm not. For every ending there's a new beginning," he said and glanced at the documents in the Devil's hand. "And it don't pay to look back, only forward."

The Devil held out the documents. "In this instance, you might consider taking a quick glance backward."

"Would it make any difference if I did? Would it change anything?" Gambit asked.

"Maybe. But I thought you should at least be given the choice."

Gambit regarded the files with trepidation. "I...think I want some time t'think about it."

The Devil was somewhat reassured by this.

Gambit resumed his ministrations on the cork. "...Forty days and forty nights," Gambit continued. "Lookin' forward to this." The bottle let out a muffled pop and the cork flew out into the open expanse before him.

"Whoops," Gambit said watching the cork fall away. "Lost control there...how embarrassin'. Supposed t'sound like de fart of a satisfied woman when it opens."

"It's 'sigh', Gambit, not fart," the Devil said drolly.

"I've been doin' it wrong all dis time...?" Gambit mused.

"And forty days isn't so long to be falling off the wagon already," the Devil continued.

"I ain't on no wagon. It was my penitence," Gambit said. "No gumbo, go-go, or do-do."

The Devil had no idea what that meant. He also didn't ask for an elaboration as he had a hard enough time understanding what the thief was saying even at the best of times.

"Gave up my vices," Gambit elaborated. "I've been good."

"Really?" the Devil replied, unable to conceal the disbelief in his voice.

"Would you believe I gave it all up for Lent?" Gambit asked.

"No," the Devil responded in deadpan fashion, though he could tell Gambit was telling the truth. The Devil also believed that the thief had taken leave of his senses, if he'd had any to begin with.

The Devil heard Gambit's sigh, the cluck of his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "Be nice if someone believed me just de one time. What'd you give up, Diable?"

Taken aback, the Devil paused and reconsidered the thief before him. "Wha—what? Oh...oh, you're serious. I'm, ah...Coffee," he finally said.

Gambit made a tsk-ing sound and shook his head regretfully. "You lightweight," he told the Devil.

The Devil had half a mind to shove the Cajun off the rooftop when the thief stood abruptly, bottle in hand, toes overhanging the edge of the building.

"What are you doing?" the Devil asked as he began to move forward.

"Celebratin' new beginnings," Gambit said, his arms held outstretched to his sides. In one hand was the bottle, thick glass with a heavy bottom. The other hand held the card.

"You're going to hurt yourself," the Devil told him.

Gambit laughed. "I'm a glutton for punishment," Gambit said over his shoulder to the Devil, right before he plunged forward off the roof.

~ oOo ~

Next time: Gambit gets out of bed.