Chapter 3: Gambit 's at Graduation
Disclaimer: I claim no rights nor association with Marvel, Stan Lee, or any of related associates or merchandising.
Author's note: Hey, Willow here, if you are reading this, thank you. I'm sorry it takes me forever to update, might the extra fluff in this story make up for it? So, for once, I'm going to try(and fail) to keep this short. Hope you like the story, and I want to send a thank you out to Misty Snape and GreenStar13 for favoriting this story.
Sheila POV
I awoke to safety and warmth. Arms were wrapped around my waist and my head rested on a muscular and surprisingly comfortable chest. It was John, and he smelled of burnt chocolate, the good kind.
I felt myself sleepily smile, nuzzling myself closer to his warmth. Slowly, I began to become more awake and aware of my surroundings. Figuring that I should probably at least attempt to get up, I slowly tried to get up, only to find myself wrapped even more tightly in his arms.
I wriggled, trying to get myself out of his grip, but, after a continuously unaffected Pyro I simply lay back into his arms with a sigh. I studied his face and, seeing him swallow, poked him, feeling mild annoyance as to him pretending to sleep.
His eyes opened and he looked up at me. For some reason he found my expression amusing, and began to quietly chuckle.
My annoyance wavered and died, and, I ended up instead smiling shyly up at him. He grinned broadly back and, absentmindedly, began rubbing circles on my torso, where his hands splayed around my waist.
If I wasn't an empath, our blooming relationship would seem far too sudden, but, somehow, it just felt right, it almost made me wish I believed in soul mates.
Slowly, and gently he peeled the blankets from us and rolled himself out of bed. Grabbing my hands in his, he pulled me up to stand beside me.
Taking my hand casually in his, he led me once more to the kitchen. Sitting down, we ate doughnuts and he poured us some orange juice, and, when we were full, he placed the dishes in the sink on a growing pile. Turning back to me, Pyro said "ready for graduation?"
Before I could respond, a knock came from the door and, John automatically started towards it. Sending a furtive glance out the peek hole, I saw his frown break into a broad grin as he threw open the door to open a stranger in a trench coat. The stranger had brown hair and eyes hidden behind shades.
When he said "mon ame" and was pulled into a hug by my pyro, his emotions showed only the slightest casual annoyance reserved for sometimes annoying younger brothers.
When he looked at me, he seemed not to see me as a person, but as a threat to be assessed. When he saw the attention I paid his shaded eyes, I was hit by the full emotional turmoil of slight fear, anger, and some baser instinctual emotions.
I drew back, and John was automatically there, ready to shoot a sharp glance towards what appeared to be his close friend. "S'okay" I murmured towards him, and turned my focus back on his friend.
"Who's your fifille, Johnny?" asked the man in the trench coat, smirking. It was at that moment that I realized that John's friend had taken my bedraggled appearance in and assumed that I was some form of Pyro's paid bed companion. John seemed to realize what his friend was thinking at that moment too, and, I felt him fill with shock, anger, and hurt at his friend's behavior.
"Excuse moi, Cajun, but the fille can speak for herself, and, just because you perceived me to be something doesn't make me such, so you can go shove-" then I stopped myself. The emotions had gotten to me again, if I didn't stop now, the storm of emotions I was accidentally making would cause chaos. So, gently, I siphoned off the anger and spoke.
"Sorry" I murmured, but before I could finish my apology, the cajun in the trench coat cut in. He seemed to have figured out the how wrong his assumption was, and stated so when he said "desole, petit un, it is as much my fault as it is yours, you can call me
Gambit. What was that by the way? It was as if you took my anger from me"
"effed up empathy" I murmured morosely, "and I am not small" I added as an after thought. The man known as Gambit just chuckled. Then John joined in and, in the end, we were all laughing.
"So" said Gambit, humor laced in his words "I got a very interest call this morning from a very hyper aussie pertaining to a crashed graduation, a need to borrow my and or Monsieur Claws' motorbike, and the general need for fire, leather, and mayhem. Might I assume I came to the right place?"
We laughed again, and an unwavering smile flickered on my lips. Now that Gambit and my score had been settled, our conversation was moved to the kitchen. Sitting across from the two, my lips became desolate once more, only to twist into a wry grin.
Seeing the two of them interact, I was able to see just how close they were, and though I could not deny John his happiness, I could not help feeling resentful towards their easy friendship. Luckily, I was not left to ponder much longer as the two ex alycotes filled me in on their plan.
Pyro POV
It was nice being able to hang out with Remy again, not so thrilled about his automatic reaction to my Sheila's presence, but, even though I would probably never say it out loud, I had missed him. A lot.
He was the older brother figure to me, I respected him, looked up to him even, and that explained why, even though we were no longer bound together by bucket head who was, quite honestly crazier than me, we were such great friends.
Currently, my Sheila was using the bedroom to get ready, and as such I was left to hang out with Gambit as. Even with Gambits company, my thoughts wandered to the Sheila. In many ways, our sudden attraction to each other didn't make much sense.
We had known each other for such a short time, and yet, I felt that, if something were to happen to her, I don't know if I could live with myself.
She was beautiful, maybe not in a common, modeled way, I mean, she had all the right curves in all the right places, but it was more than that. Not to sound sappy, but, I think it might be her inner beauty that attracted me to her, tough I had a feeling her empathy might be a factor.
Damn, I really have become an airyfairy wuss, ah well, at least it was because of a fiery Sheila after my own heart. Hm, not to sound crazier or anything, to whatever telepaths are currently monitoring my brain, but I really do need to stop with the inner monologue.
"Hey Remy, how is Roguey doing? Has Logan tried to kill you any time recently?"
Sheila POV
Leather, old leather from the nice worn smell of it, I had it over my graduation gown, a tasseled cap on my head. I still wasn't sure about this, it was so unlike anything I had ever imagined myself doing that. If I closed my eyes tight enough, I could almost imagine all of this being a crazy dream.
I fiddled with my hair as I pondered, in all honestly, this should all be a dream. A man kind enough to offer a stranger a place to stay without hidden motives, a man who might actually like her in the same capacity that she liked him? All of it seemed too good to be true.
Sighing, I was startled from my reverie when I heard Pyro ask from the other side of the door "You ready yet, Sheila?" "Yes" I replied, my voice quiet as per usual. In he came and I wonder to myself yet again, how could some other woman not have tried to snatch up the flame haired god before me?
"Your worried" he remarked, observant as usual. "A little" I murmured, burying my face in the soft material of his shirt, eventually moving my head to rest In the crook of his neck. In an instant he had me wrapped in his arms. And, as stupid as it sounds, in his arms, I felt safe.
Gambit POV
I watched as my longtime, moments ago immature friend held a woman in his arms. Not just any woman however, his woman, his Sheila as he called her, his version of mon own Rogue.
He could see what Pyro saw in the fille, though she had no overly remarkable outward traits, she seemed to radiate beauty, as if, even though she saw the world as it was, ugly and twisted, she still wanted everyone else to see the beauty.
She was, as he was quickly learning, a fille who always tried to help other, even if, especially if it brought her pain in the process.
Being in love with Rogue gave him experience with such a woman, and he knew he may someday have to have a long talk with his friend on just what to expect and what merde not to put up with when it come to a fille like her or his own Rogue.
For now, however, Johnny was fine, he would treat his Sheila as the tresor he saw her as.
Sheila POV
I felt frozen in time, as everything seemed to blur around me. In what seemed to me to be an instant, I had found myself on the back of what was apparently the motorcycle of someone named Monsieur Claws, my arms wrapped around John. As we drew closer to our final destination, my stomach seemed to drop.
I felt terrified, and, as Pyro sped the motorcycle up a ramp and onto the graduation stage, he looked back at me and looked me straight in the eyes. Then the fear was gone.
To the credit of my classmates, they were quite brave seeing as none of them pissed themselves. I knew what I was here to do, and, though this was not how I had originally intended to do so, I was going to graduate.
"Give the lady her diploma please, mate" said John, his hands lighting up with barely concealed flames. Confused and partially terrified, the principal did just that, and I was able to hold my diploma in my hands.
Grinning cheekily at the crowd, John grabbed the microphone and announced loudly "If any of you Joe Bloggs have an issue with this here Sheila, you'll have to take it up with me from now on".
His speech over, he pulled me into his arms, dipped me, and kissed me soundly. In a daze, I clamored back onto the motorcycle and Pyro shot us out, over the crowd, leaving behind some Pyro version fireworks.
Looking back, I saw, to my surprise and delight my Latin teacher smirking at me. He winked, and then I was too far away to see him.
We were finally back at John's flat and I could barely contain my excitement. John kissed me soundly once more, murmured "my Sheila" in my ear, and opened the door…
…The former alycote opened the door only to be faced with a stout Canadian man with adamantium claws he knew only too well. He heard a snikt sound and then the words "Where is my motorcycle, bub?"
Look! My first attempt at a cliff hanger. Hope you liked the story, and please remember, feedback and reviews are like water to a camel. Not always necessary but greatly appreciated. And did anybody get the double meaning of the chapter title?
-Willow99