A/N:

Telepathic speech is in italics.

Foreign languages are underlined. Meaning, if it's underlined it's written in English in the story but assume the character is speaking something else.

Remy was sprawled on his stomach on the floor. His long, lanky body was positioned in just the right angle to insure that anyone who walked through the room would have to step over him. Sitting a couple feet in front of him was an eleven year-old boy with a look on intense concentration on his face. Remy was teaching Jamie how to play Texas Hold-em. It was what all the older kids in the mansion were playing and if Jamie taught his friends at school how to play it than he would be the coolest fifth grader ever. At least that was what he was hoping. He hadn't actually started public school yet, because he hadn't had enough control over his abilities to avoid being recognized as a mutant, but now he did and he would be the only mutant in his school.

Rogue was sitting in the chair behind Jamie, looking over his shoulder and occasionally giving him advice. It was fun but she had the feeling that she would have to get Kurt or Kitty to go to the concert with her later because Remy would probably have to clean the carpet. The cheetos they had been eating were now spread out over the carpet and were no longer on their paper towels. The floor was liable to be neon orange after they were picked up. Scott entered the room and stopped in shock, "You're teaching Jamie to gamble!" Huh, she would have thought that he'd be more upset about the carpet.

"Dere jus' cheetos homme," Remy replied lazily, "we needed something to keep track of who's winning."

Scott stood, indecisive, wondering if this was a big enough problem to start an argument over but his thoughts were interrupted by the door chime. He glanced at Remy an Rogue. Neither made a move to answer it. Scott sighed as Jamie created a clone and sent him running, Jamie wasn't allowed to answer the door by himself, he ought to realize this applied to clones as well. Scott took off after it.

Scott reached the entrance of the institute just as the clone started to greet their visitor through the intercom, "HI! Welcome to Mutant High! I am Madrox the Amazing Multiple Ma… hey!" the clone's speech was interrupted abruptly by Scott pulling him away from the intercom. It was a speech that had been taught to Jamie by Bobby and if the clone had been allowed to continue would have finished, "…the Amazing Multiple Man. You have pushed our sacred button and angered our gods. Turn and flee for your lives before you are quartered by the short hairy troll with claws, which guards these lands!" Jamie (and the clone) who was shorter than Wolverine and therefore did not realize that the last part was about him, should probably have considered himself lucky that he didn't get to finish his greeting. Instead, the clone sulked back to the rec room to be reabsorbed. Scott hit the intercom himself. "Err, sorry about that. This is the Xavier Institute for the Gifted. Can I help you?" he asked as he slid a portrait hanging next to the door over to see the monitor for the security camera at the gate. There was a tall woman in a long overcoat standing next to a cab just outside the outer fence. She hesitated, uncertain if she should speak because she had become confused by the earlier mixed responses. Finally her heavy Russian accent sounded from the speakers, "Hello. I speak to Remy, please."

Whatever Scott had been expecting that wasn't it. Gambit never received visitors, or phone calls, or mail. Professor?

Yes Scott?

There is a strange woman here to see Gambit.

Let her in. Wolverine will be there shortly.

"Come on up to the front door," Scott instructed before hitting the button to open the gates to the drive. The woman didn't really understand Scott's choice of words but she returned to her cab once she saw the gates opening. Scott was waiting at the door when the cab dropped off the woman and two men. Scott frowned. He hadn't realized anyone was with her. "Hello my name is Scott Summers, may I ask who you are?" One of the men spoke rapidly and lowly in Russian to the woman. She paid little attention to him, understanding at least enough English to realize that this was an introduction. She smiled, and Scott suddenly realized that she was rather attractive, although a bit older than him. She wasn't stunning the way he sometimes considered Jean (or more privately, Storm) to be and she didn't automatically grab one's attention the way Rogue did but she was pretty in the way Kitty or Amara was. She was attractive in the way any woman could be if she had halfway decent features and dressed nicely with well styled hair. She was certainly well dressed. Scott might not know much about fashion, and he might see things in various shades of red, but even he could tell the woman's clothes were expensive. She practically reeked wealth. She also moved gracefully in a manner that Scott could only describe as stately. She seemed almost aristocratic. "I am pleased to meet you, Mr. Summers" the woman carefully pronounced, "I am Anzhela Lagunov-LeBeau," here she paused and then continued speaking in Russian which Scott found entirely incomprehensible. However, the man who had spoken before spoke again; louder and in English, "I wish to speak with my husband. I do not want to be rude but it is a matter of some urgency could you go and fetch him?" The part of Scott's brain that wasn't marveling at this turn of events assessed that the man who had spoken was a translator, but who was the other man?

Scott was saved from answering by Logan's entrance, "Right this way mamn, but leave the suits behind." Scott blinked. He hadn't realized that Wolverine spoke Russian. At this rate his eyebrows were going to be permanently attached to his hairline. Both of the 'suits' tried to protest being left behind but were silenced by the Russian woman telling them to do as requested. Scott and Jean used their mental link to place wagers on whether Rogue or Wolverine would kill the Cajun first. Scott's money was riding on Rogue, but Jean thought she would go after Anzhela first, leaving Remy open to Logan's attack. Not knowing what else to do, Scott kept a watchful eye on the translator and the other man.

Wolverine subtly checked out the scents of the three "intruders." All three were armed. All three were somewhat stressed. The men's stress had peaked when Logan asked them to remain behind. They were bodyguards. Logan was sure of it. Both of them, even if only one might openly admit to it when pressed. The two men were tired, as was the woman, but from her Logan was mostly picking up the slight tint of fear. Nervous; he assessed, not really frightened, but he couldn't help but wonder why she was so nervous about speaking to her own husband and more importantly why no one had known the Cajun was married. There wasn't the slightest whiff of deceit to her scent so Logan knew that she was who she said she was. Why weren't she and the kid living together? Was she going to cause problems, chasing after her straying husband? Rogue had insisted to him that she and Gambit were only friends, but Wolverine hadn't really believed her at the time. It wasn't so much that he thought she was lying, but he didn't believe they would remain only friends. When he told her this, she had let out this weird kind or half-laugh and informed him that she and Remy would never be anything more. That had worried him more than the idea of them dating, because he was afraid that LeBeau was using her powers as an excuse not to take her seriously. Rogue could handle any of the normal jerk-wad things guys did in relationships but that might actually hurt her. Now he had to completely re-evaluate the situation. Of course, if Gambit and Rogue were more than just friends his claws would find a new home somewhere rather painful to the Cajun.

"Gumbo…" a gruff voice caused Remy to look up from his cards and his jaw nearly dropped at the sight of the brunette standing next to the feral. "Your wife is here to see you," Wolverine informed him, tilting his head and raising an eyebrow in question. Remy swallowed, he was going to die. Rogue had gone rigid in her chair. Her eyes were fixed on Anzhela and she seemed to be trying to drink in every detail about the woman. Anzhela's gaze brushed over him to land on Rogue and then down at Jamie. It then flickered back and forth between the three of them and Remy had the sinking feeling that she was trying to figure out exactly how old Jamie was. Eventually her gaze focused on Remy and he was relieved to see that she was calm, so she must have realized Jamie was far too old to be of any concern to her. He was suddenly incredibly glad that he had confessed to Rogue that he was married. This was going to be awkward enough as it was.