I'm skipping back and forth between dramarama and simple banter. I don't know how to end this. Maybe just a few more chapters...?
Chapter Four
(7)
When Rogue saw Gambit again the next Monday night, he didn't seem to remember anything at all about how their previous meeting had ended.
"Are you sure?" She pried, anxiously chewing on her bottom lip. "You don't remember anything?"
"Nothing," He verified. "It's all a blur. I didn't do anything wrong, did I? Did I say something wrong?"
"Actually, yes." Rogue waved hello to Terry, who was—as usual— vehemently scrubbing the already-clean counter. If he kept up his OCD-like cleaning habits, the counter would surely split in half. "You were a bit of a jerk."
"Really?" Gambit sounded fascinated. "What did I say?"
She told him, watching his face change colors like a traffic light as her calm words (renewed anger sparking behind that façade) spewed out.
"Oh… chere, I'm sorry." He meant it.
"I know. You apologized before."
He looked away. "Guess I let my old self out."
"What?" She stared at him curiously.
"Well… uh, I wasn't such a good person after I escaped Stryker." Gambit smiled with—could it be?—a hint of nervousness. "In fact, I was an asshole."
"Stryker? He locked you up?" Rogue asked, allowing herself to smirk at his confession about being an asshole.
"Oui. He was a monster."
Her voice was flat. "Yes, Remy, I think I would know that."
He was reminded of her history as an X-Man. "Right. Désolé."
"Stop apologizing. Please."
"Sor—uh, oui. Anyway, after I escaped, I felt like the king of the world. I could do anything. I spent my life at casinos. I rarely used my mutation. My eyes… they became normal after a while. Brown." Gambit paused. "And then… I met Logan. I could barely kick his ass; he kicked mine. He was my first friend in a while." He barked a laugh. "Before he lost his memory, that is."
Rogue frowned. "But… how did that make you an asshole?" It didn't make sense to her. He'd been scared off by Stryker and his experiments, so he stopped using his mutation. That's what had gotten him in trouble in the first place, so his decision sounded pretty reasonable.
Gambit smiled tightly. "Well… I did a lot of bad things, cherie. Like forgetting my heritage, one of the only things I'm proud of. A different woman every night. Tricking my opponents into betting all they had when they played against me. Getting angry at just the mention of 'mutant', 'Stryker', or even 'island'." He carefully met her gaze. "Is that enough for you?"
As she swallowed his words like pills, something dawned on her. "You liked it, didn't you?" She accused. "You liked pretending your past life didn't exist, ignoring your mutation. You were worse than me taking the Cure. You're a filthy hypocrite, Remy."
"Non, I'm not," he fired back. "That's history. Eventually, I went home. I resumed my duties, my heritage, my mutation. Then everything went wrong again, but I didn't go back to what I was before. I joined the X-Men."
"Oh, so that makes you better?" Rogue challenged. "It gives you the right to make such a big deal out of me taking the Cure?"
"It does! I was a lot worse!"
"But I didn't do any of the things you did!" She exploded. "I just took the Cure so I could touch people! So I could have a life!"
"A life?" Gambit mocked. "Do you feel like you have a life when you practice with the little preteen mutants instead of going on missions with the big league, because you don't have a mutation anymore?"
She swore so loudly at him that a group of young hipsters in the corner glanced at each other uneasily, as if a bar fight might break out any second.
"I bet you don't use that kind of language with Bobby," Gambit said, smiling cockily and fanning the flames. His voice rose, and it suddenly sounded so strangely southern that the twang nearly matched hers, the Cajun accent almost completed buried. "Or anyone else, for that matter. Back at the mansion, if someone said what I just said, y'all would've cried, wouldn't cha? Trembling lip, watery eyes…"
"Shut up," Rogue said sharply. "Remy, shut up."
He fell silent.
Indifferent, she stiffly wiped away the bit of frustrated wetness that had slid down one cheek, which he had just noticed. His stomach lurched. "Just listen to yourself talk. What do you sound like, you jerk?"
Gambit stared at her wordlessly, remembering what he'd told her about his life after escaping Stryker.
"Well?" She demanded.
"I'm—" he started, the beginning of an apology.
"Yeah." She finished her drink. The group of guys who'd been lounging in the corner (incidentally, they all had skinny jeans and slightly shaggy hair) headed out the bar. Each of them smiled at Rogue, as if Gambit wasn't there. "Apology accepted. Will you buy me a drink?"
(8)
"I've got a hot date tomorrow!" Gambit chortled, lifting his drink in the air. Rogue willingly clinked her glass against his, and they both drank.
"Is it someone I know?" She inquired, letting out a hiccup-like burp.
He shrugged. "Maybe. Do you know Foxx, the new mutant?"
Rogue, who'd taken another gulp of her drink, choked unexpectedly. "Please tell me you're joking!" She sputtered, staring wide-eyed at his perplexed face.
"Why? Are you jealous, cherie?" Gambit teased. "I like Foxx."
"No.I just think she's weird, that's all," Rogue defended herself, crossing her arms. "I've spoken to her before. She seems okay, but she scares me. She's all motherly around me."
"What's so wrong with being a little maternal? She says she wants to be your friend. I talk about you often." He grinned as Rogue blushed a girly shade of pink.
"You didn't tell her about Rainbow, did you?" She asked, glancing around the warm, soothing bar. "This is… our thing."
"Aw, chere, that's sweet," Gambit laughed. "But no, I didn't say anything about this. I just said we speak to each other a lot and we're good friends. Isn't that true, Marie?"
Rogue growled at the use of her old name. "Good friends? You're pretty bigheaded, LeBeau."
He blinked. "How did you…?"
"Storm told me your last name," she said, answering his unfinished question. "It's so… unoriginally French."
"Hmm. You know, Stormy was in love with me at one point."
She raised her brows. "Really?"
"Oui. The same goes for that cold psychic Brit, the horny fille who makes things explode—we're alike, aren't we?—plus kitty-cat and the blue German's old girlfriend…"
"Now I know you're lying," Rogue said dryly. "Anyway, Kitty—she was in your list, wasn't she? She likes somebody else." Her eyes narrowed angrily at the thought. Bobby was clearly on her mind.
"But that boy has a girlfriend, doesn't he?" Gambit said, trying to cheer her up. "And he probably loves her so much that he wouldn't dare look at anyone else in the same way."
Her eyes pricked with moisture. What was wrong with her, getting all teary? "Merci, Remy."
"Please don't speak in French. It makes me want to maul you in a way that would get me arrested."
Rogue laughed. "Well, that's something every girl wants to hear, isn't it?"
"Of course it is. I'm Remy LeBeau. See there, cherie? You're one of the few people in this part of the country who know my real name."
"I'm honored," she said sarcastically. "Do I get an award with it?"
"Your award is…" His voice trailing off ceremoniously, he pulled out a sleek black cell phone, dialed a number, and pressed the device to his ear, waiting. Gambit was one of the few X-Men who used a phone instead of the issued communicators. "Bonsoir, Foxx."
Rogue stared at him, surprised. She began to speak, but he silenced her with one raised hand and a grin.
"Mmm… oui, I'm going to have to cancel for tomorrow. Something came up." He stopped, eyebrows flying up his forehead. "Non. Nuh-uh. Why would you even suggest that? Hmph."
His lips curved into a grin at something Foxx had said. With a final goodbye, Gambit said something quickly in French and then hung up.
"What was that?" Rogue asked. "I didn't quite catch the last part."
Gambit shrugged. "Nothing. I just said she was too overprotective, that's all."
She sipped her drink and signaled Terry to get her another. "What's that supposed to mean?"
He smiled evasively and changed the subject. "So, since I'm free tomorrow night, where do you want to go?"
Rogue blinked. "You're asking me?"
"Yes. Why wouldn't I?"
"I don't know. It's just…"
"What is it?"
"Well, Bobby said he wanted to talk to me tonight," she said awkwardly. "I canceled and left because I had to meet you."
Gambit frowned. "What's so important about talking? You talk all the time. He's your boyfriend. He's not going to give you the birds and bees talk, is he, chere?" He smiled to show he was joking.
Rogue gave him a forlorn look that said plainly, if only.
Gambit thought about what other kinds of talks a couple could have. "Oh. He's not going to do that. You two are everywhere. He still loves you."
"How do you know that?" She asked, obviously dubious. How many conversations had they had about Bobby? It was much too personal.
"My manly instinct," He deadpanned.
She rolled her eyes. "I don't know how trustworthy your 'manly instinct' is."
"Then don't trust it at all." He grinned. "Instead, have some fun with me tomorrow night."
"Remy…" she said, warning him with her voice the way a mother might. "No."
"Oh, come on, cherie. It'll be fun." Gambit stuck out his bottom lip babyishly. "Please?"
"No," she said firmly.
"Please?"
"No."
He snatched her up with the same ease one might pick up a tissue, and pulled her onto his lap. "Rogue…"
Rogue became flustered, her skin turning the reddest it had ever been around him. "This is the most ludicrous position in the world. Pervert." She blurted out the first statements that came to her mind, squirming in his tight grip. Her face felt like it was on fire.
"Is that a yes?" Gambit asked, enjoying Rogue's embarrassed discomfort.
Terry passed by, whistling casually. "You guys are together now? 'Bout time. Good job, bro." He directed the last part to Gambit, who chuckled.
"No, we're not together!" Rogue protested. She shoved at the wiry arms that were keeping her captive, but they wouldn't budge.
"Okay, let's make a deal," Gambit quipped. Rogue stopped struggling, ready to listen to his proposal. "We can play a game of hearts. If I win, you're going to go out with me tomorrow. If you win, you can do whatever you want to me. Torture is included." He grinned.
"Why hearts?" Rogue asked suspiciously. He'd chosen the card game she was best at; back at the mansion, anyone who dared to suggest playing a game on a rainy day usually lost tragically. She distinctly remembered Gambit being around during one of those games, laughing at the people who had lost and enthusiastically high-fiving her.
"'Cause I've never properly learned how to play," Gambit revealed. "Teach me, then we'll start."
A grin slowly spread across her face. How could Gambit, the master of gambling and card games, not have learned to play hearts? She could, and would,win this game. The night out Gambit wanted didn't really matter to her; part of her wanted to go with him, actually… but winning a card game against Remy LeBeau was truly something to brag about.
"Alright," Rogue agreed. "Let's play." Gambit released her, and she quickly jumped off his lap. He handed her his latest deck of cards, and she shuffled them, not caring if she couldn't do the fancy tricks he could. As she dealt the cards—which were oddly well-used and worn, she spoke, explaining the game. Gambit asked a few questions about how to win, and she answered them easily.
"I hope you win," Gambit said nonchalantly before they started. There was something that wasn't right about his grin, something that made Rogue want to rip it off.
"I hope I do, too," she said.
And she lost.
Ack. I made no sense whatsoever. I was supposed to elaborate on the spiked drink, but I totally lost my train of thought.
Good? Bad?
Thanks to angel897, BasiaM82, tfobmv18, EnglishRose28, lilacgardens12, Chellerbelle, and Rogueslove22 for reviewing. You guys are badass.
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