Challenge: Word #188 at 15_minute_fic LJ comm

Not beta'ed.

Thank you, everyone, for the reviews and the reads and favorites and alerts. Coming back to FF has been like coming home in a way.

Chellerbelle (I'm glad this one's intriguing. With this chapter, I just made the horrid mistake of creating a whole lot of backstory to explore, but oh, well. That's what happens with timed, prompted fiction. :groans: And yeah, the infra-red does provide night vision, but it also provides heat vision, a reason I noted them separately.), Indigo-Night-Wisp (I do love picking up on the cards. They're just so full—lots of potential. And yeah, practical romance. She wants to be swept off her feet, but... she's got a long list of traditionally romantic ideas that strike as somewhat silly. Definitely a challenge, that. :grins: )

Weary

The hands clapping were not in applause. In fact, they were about the worst response Gambit could have possibly expected from the particular blonde woman standing in front of him.

"Inspirin'," Belladonna bit out sarcastically. Her blue eyes were cold.

Gambit winced. He had been in New Orleans for over a week, and thus far, he had managed to avoid having this conversation. For once, he didn't sneak out of Guild Council chambers fast enough.

"Bella—"

She held up a hand to forestall him. "Save me de explanations, Remy-cher. I t'ink I heard every last word y' just fed de Council." This time, he could catch the traces of hurt laced in her venom.

He didn't know what to say. He had cared about Belladonna once. He still cared if he was being honest with himself. But not enough to love her, to marry her, to give her Guild heirs and a Guild peace. He had told the Council as much. He wanted to make her promises, but he had no promises to give.

He settled. "We went t'rough dis." Warily, wearily.

A small, sad smile bloomed on his former lover's face. "Oui," she said softly. "But den we t'ought y'd come back."

She didn't know about Rogue. Gambit knew Belladonna better than anybody else ever had, and he knew this anger was purely from her own rejection, not the vindictiveness of jealousy, or she wouldn't soften, not even for him. Belladonna was a princess of Assassins. She could do ruthless.

"I wish t'ings were different," he offered.

Belladonna stiffened. The anger left her face, leaving behind a cold mask of indifference. "But dey aren't."

"Belle—"

This time, her finger was on his lips and she was this close and he wondered for half a moment what it would have been like if things really had been different.

Belladonna shook her head. "Go back t' y'r X-Men, Remy. Just...don't come back here again."

That shook him. It left him trembling when she walked away, when he walked away, when he closed the door on his old room and pressed his head into his hands, realizing just how far he'd come.

Henri found him hours later, still staring wearily, warily out of the window. "Pere wants to see y'." Henri never had a problem interrupting Remy's brooding. They were so close to family, but never close enough.

Remy nodded. "I'll come." The rest of the words he did not speak hung between them.

I won't stay.