Chapter Thirteen

He had been at the mansion for a few months now, and still Gambit found himself fascinated by the Danger Room and how incredible it was.

He had to keep his skills impeccable and sharp. Not just combat skills, but his 'stealthier' ones as well. The ones he hadn't used since making the mansion his home, and trading thievery (no matter how lucrative) for an honest living.

He began his session today with a typical Danger Room run-through—smashing holographic baddies, dodging obstacles, avoiding being tagged. Still smooth as ever. Then, it went on to his personal favorite—procuring rare items of immense cost that just happened not to belong to him. Gambit smirked to himself. He was almost certain Professor Xavier and Scotty Boy would not approve of the former so-called Prince of the notorious Thieves' Guild using their beloved technology to retain and hone his thieving abilities, but what the hell. They didn't call him 'Gambit' for nothing.

Remy LeBeau was a risk-taker.

Gambit grueled and sweated another hour in the Danger Room before finally calling it quits. Bobby and Kathryn were heading to Harry's later, and yesterday, Rogue had asked Gambit if he would accompany her downtown with them. He could hardly say no in the face of her pitiful state. Both she and Ororo had taken the Wolverine's absence hard. He had long since learned about Anna's and Logan's precursory events that lead them to the X-Men and the friendship that had followed. Seemed Logan obviously wasn't above hurting his woman or his friends.

Gambit said yes to accompanying her and the 'date' was set.

Panting, tired, and sweating Gambit, exited through the automatic chrome doors precisely as Summers was gliding through them. Light glinted off his rose quartz shades.

"Just finish up?" Scott said to him.

Gambit wiped his sweaty face with a towel and flung it over his shoulder. "Yup. S'all yours, mon ami."

"Oh, hey." Gambit stopped and turned around.

"Ororo was looking for you."

"Yeah?"

Scott nodded his head. "Yeah, but I don't know where she is now. From how she was dressed I'd say she's at the greenhouse again."

Gambit quickly made to head off when Scott stopped him a second time.

"Oh and LeBeau?"

"Yeah? What?"

"Keep in mind what I told you earlier." Scott leveled him with a long, meaningful look, nodded once more, and disappeared through the Danger Room doors.

Gambit stood there, rooted in place for a few thoughtful seconds before bustling off toward the locker room. After a quick shower, he worked his way outside to the greenhouse. He couldn't stop his heart from racing a bit. The fact that Ororo was initiating contact was a small miracle in-and-of-itself, for the weather goddess had been terribly sullen since the debriefing.

Gambit hesitated before opening the door to the greenhouse, his hand still on the door handle, before knocking once and pushing it open. The humidity met him as he stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

"Stormy?"

Gambit turned slowly in place, glancing appreciatively around at Ororo's thriving green sanctuary. He gently fingered a nearby begonia. He grinned softly, admiring the obvious care Ororo took with her precious plants, here, in her haven. He walked around and called out again.

"Stormy?"

He spun around upon hearing her soft, muted footfalls against the ground and saw Ororo come into view, stopping near a potted plant on one of the shelves and watering it with a small, localized raincloud. She went on to another, and Gambit just watched contentedly for a moment. He'd never cease to be amazed at Ororo's power. She was every bit like a living, breathing, ethereal deity who had graciously deigned to live among men.

She was breathtaking—barefooted and wearing a simple soil-mottled T-shirt with worn, but fitted jeans – ripped at the knees – and her abundant cloud of hair held back by a brightly-colored scarf made from African cloth.

Ororo's eyes reverted back to their familiar icy blue after giving the plants a thorough soaking, and turned around to find Remy glaring at her. She started a bit, startled, before relaxing and given him a tiny, cordial smile.

"Hey there."

"Chèrie."

Gambit gestured broadly around the dense plant-life surrounding them. "Look like yo' been hard at work, chère. Mon Dieu. Dis is really somet'ing."

"Really?" Ororo grinned a bit. "You like it?"

"Oui. S'very beautiful, chère. Tres belle."

Ororo smiled again, satisfied, and stared down at her feet. "Thank you."

Several seconds silence.

"Scotty said y' were askin' f' me," Gambit said to her.

"Yeah, I want to speak with you. Are you busy?"

"Not f' y', chère."

"Good. Come, sit with me."

Ororo led him to a small iron-wrought table in a corner near the rear of the greenhouse with two matching chairs on either side. Ororo sat down first, and Gambit followed. They sat, and after a brief period where neither spoke, Ororo began their talk with an apology.

"I'm sorry, Remy," she said, staring at him with earnest, "for avoiding certain questions—about us and leaving you hanging—wondering. And for not being the most pleasant person to be around lately."

Gambit didn't say it to her aloud but, it was true. She hadn't been, to put it lightly. The last few weeks, Ororo had been reclusive, sullen, and a bit gloomy since the day he had left, and Remy was pissed that the reason for her glumness was probably hundreds of miles away somewhere. Out of his reach.

Yes, Remy LeBeau was very protective of one Ororo N'Dare Munroe—he always would be and both the friends knew it. And Ororo, no doubt, felt the same about himself so there was safety there. They'd live together, been thieves together, fought side by side together; experienced adventures during the course of their joint partnership, and had saved each other's lives certainly more than once.

There was a bond there, inexplicably strong, and even when he had been gone those six years it had never faded. Now, he was back and their bond wasn't the only thing he was feeling.

"I kno' yo' been upset, girl. Don' worry none 'bout, Remy, ma chère."

"But I do, Remy. I'd never hurt you purposely and you know that."

"I feel de same way, chèrie."

Ororo reached across the table and sought Remy's hand. He happily obliged her and she closed her own over his, intertwining their slender fingers together—one set tan and the other a deep brown. Ororo stared at their hands a long moment, an easy smile beginning to pull at the corner of her mouth. She rubbed her thumb over his, and was quiet and thoughtful for a long time. When she spoke again it was soft, and with slow consideration, like she had gone into herself and was thinking out loud introspectively.

Her eyes lifted and landed on his face, catching him staring at her with a serious expression, and a light in his incredible eyes. Her Cajun. Ororo studied him fondly, and whispered in awe, as if seeing him for the first time.

"You're beautiful, you know," she said out of the blue.

Surprise flitted across Gambit's face and he grinned slightly at her. "What?"

Ororo chuckled softly and repeated, "You're beautiful. Everything about you. I've always thought so. Since the first time I saw you. Even as a little girl."

Remy swallowed. Taken aback, but warmed by her confession. They smiled at each other for a long time, saying nothing. But then her smile faded, her head dropped, and her thumb on his hand stilled. Her hand tensed over his. Gambit frowned, his brow creased.

"What is it, chère?"

Ororo slowly closed her eyes and reopened them again. "I'm going to wait for Logan," she admitted just under her breath. He waited for her to look at him, but she wouldn't.

Remy's frown deepened. "What?"

"You know, I had asked Professor Xavier if I go could after him. To follow him and just . . . see what I could do, to help and bring him back sooner, but . . . he said I couldn't. That it wasn't wise, not to mention dangerous. Plus, there are the students and my responsibilities here . . ."

A pause. "I don't blame him for prohibiting me. Logan wouldn't like it anyway," she smiled sadly. "That would really set him off. He's a loner that way."

Reluctantly, Ororo glanced back up at the Cajun. "I don't know when he'll be back, but I've decided to wait for him . . . I love him."

Remy drew in a sharp breath, as if Ororo's comment had pained him, and he withdrew his hand from hers. "So what are y' sayin', 'Roro?" Anger laced his tone.

"I'm not saying anything. I'm just answering your question."

Remy scoffed and rolled his eyes. "F—k this," he grumbled under his breath. Remy slumped back in his chair.

"Are you angry?"

Gambit let out a harsh bark of laughter. "Damn right."

"Why?"

"'Cause dis is bullshit, chère."

"Remy, before you left here nothing then could've made me happier than being with you . . . ." Ororo shifted uneasily. "That's not something that's easy to admit."

Remy straightened back up in his seat. "Why's dat?"

"I . . . I do not know. I just—our time is over."

"And wha' 'bout de Wolverine's time? How long are y' willin' t' wait, chère?" he hissed. "He's already been gone longer 'n he said, chère," he spat out. From his seat, the Cajun seethed. He jumped to his feet and began to pace.

"You came back to me," she responded. "Why do you think he won't?"

"Dat's not de same, 'Roro," he snapped testily.

"How?"

"Because . . . it's just not, chèrie." He shook his head firmly. "It ain't de same."

"How so?" she stressed.

Remy jabbed a finger into his chest. "I left fo' different reasons. I had t' go."

"How? Logan does have a legit reason. Why did you have to go? What reason? Tell me. How are you any better than him? "

Remy continuing his pacing.

"What reason, Remy LeBeau?" Ororo shouted.

Remy whipped around and yelled, "Because I had fallen 'n love wit' you!" He watched her blink slowly, wearing an incredulous expression.

"Oui, I fell 'n love wit' my Stormy. Because right befo' my eyes de petite fille I had taken care of like a brother suddenly turned into de most beautiful femme I've ever seen 'n it scared de f—k outta me."

So there it was. His secret was out. Dammit, he had wanted her to admit her feelings first.

Ororo's expression went from shocked to flat. "You're lying," she said coolly.

"I'm what?"

"You heard me, Remy. I said you – are – lying."

Remy raised his head defiantly and engaged Ororo in a deadlocked glare. "You know I'm not. I ain't never lied t' y', girl. If anyone's lyin' it's you."

Shakily, Ororo stood to her feet, less than half a foot's distance between them. So close that she could feel the heat that radiated from his body. Her eyes narrowed to icy slits, attempting a dangerous look of forewarning. Silently daring him to repeat those words.

But Remy couldn't be fooled by it. He could see it for what it was. He even let a patronizing little ghost of a smirk curve his lips. Behind Ororo's cool mask, fear of exposure lurked behind her eyes and they almost seemed to plead with him . . . don't go any further with this line of conversation.

Remy LeBeau was having none of it.

He stepped forward. Drew near enough to feel her nipples harden against his chest. To catch the scents of sandalwood and other earthy scents that always seemed present with the goddess, and even close enough to feel the slightest touch of her full lips whispering against his in their close proximity. Gambit watched her draw in a shaky breath and release it. Her cool breath fanned over his mouth, but she refused to give an inch. Even as she tried her best to ignore the heat pooling in the pit of her stomach – the mad quivering, and the incredible drumming of her own heart.

Gambit bent his head down over her, his dark hair brushing against her face. His eyes bore down on her and into her soul. He ran his tongue over his lips, and they were so close, his tongue came into brief contact with her own set of lips. Ororo felt it and simultaneously gasped and then shivered.

Remy saw it and could've been more delighted by it. Yes, there was absolutely something—there, between them. More to the story than Ororo was letting on. Oh, he'd have to draw it from her.

"Admit it," Remy demanded in a deceptively low tone. Their lips touched with each word he spoke. "Admit dat yo' lyin'. Yo' not so 'n love wit' de Wolverine dat y' don' feel somet'ing f' me. Y' do. I kno' y' do."

A quiet Ororo struggled to remain closed-off and defiant with Remy so near and so handsome and dark. Suddenly his presence was intimidating and imminent, and he was speaking her secrets. Remy watched the conflict reflecting within the blues of her eyes and pounced. He lifted his hand and slowly placed it on the small of her back. He pulled her to him in a sudden jerk.

Ororo breathed hard and her chest heaved against his with every intake of air. Her words came with no small amount of effort. "Think you can use your tricks on me, LeBeau? Do you think I'll puddle at your feet like every other woman?"

He never answered her. She glared at him, but he never did. He let his free hand wander instead, letting it trail down the front of her body, his gaze eternally holding hers, and his hand continued to drop even as his lips approached her ear.

"Aah!" Ororo groaned harshly when she felt Remy's palm grip in between her legs. He held her tighter to him while grounding out into the shell of her ear, "Y' wan' me, 'Roro. Look. I can feel how hot y' are."

The words wrapped around his thick, husky drawl made Ororo shiver, and she stepped back from him, noticeably panting. He tried to recover the space, but again Ororo drew back. Gambit stopped.

"Y' never answered my question, chère. Do y' still love me?"

Frazzled and thoroughly aroused, Ororo's eyes searched his face fearfully. Her mouth dropped open, but no words came.

"Up in my room dat day y' said dat y' loved me, and again' t'day. Do you? I wanna kno', 'Roro. Do you wan' me? Because I wan' y', Stormy. I do."

Those catlike eyes began to glisten. Her bottom lip trembled.

A bold step forward. "Say it, chère." Another step. "Do you?"

Gambit watched her swallow hard, as ever so slowly, Ororo's head began to nod. A smile began to spread across his face, when both of them heard several footsteps approaching. Ororo sprang away instantly just as Marie, Bobby, and Kathryn knocked once and pulled open the door.

"Hey! Remy, Ororo."

Ororo seized the opportunity and bolted past the other three and from the greenhouse towards the mansion. Remy ran out behind her and called out her name. "Stormy! Wai—Stormy! Merde!"

Remy swore vehemently and turned back around. Six pairs of eyes glanced uneasily between each other with alarm etched on their faces.

"Is everything alright? What's wrong with, Ororo?" Kathryn piped. Gambit just sighed. He'd almost had her. Dammit!

"Um . . . We were jus' wonderin' if ya were ready ta go, sugah."

"Right. Sorry if we interrupted—" Bobby tried.

Marie watched Remy with curious eyes. He shook his head dejectedly. "Don' worry 'bout it. We jus—everyt'ings bien."

A lie. A quite obvious one at that. The three of them nodded, but their disbelief was clear.

"So, um, are you, uh, still up for Harry's?"

CANADA . . . . . .

He slowed down as he neared the city limits, keeping his eyes peeled for a bar where he could get a hard drink. It was growing dark and cold—well, it was always cold.

Twenty minutes later he was pulling into a ratty old bar. Sounds of drunken laughter and the breaking of bottles coming from the establishment. Logan grinned. Just his kind of place. Before dismounting his bike, Logan reached behind him and grabbed his pack. He ruffled through it a second before pulling the object out. He ran his fingers down her photo and glanced up at the darkening sky.

It always reminded him of her. 'Ro.

He stared at her barely there smile in the picture and felt his heart clench painfully. "Flamin' hell," he swore. If he imagined hard enough, he could almost feel her warm arms come around him. Maybe laying asleep beside her in bed, keeping the nightmares away.

Since he'd started this journey, they'd only gotten worse than ever.

Logan cursed again and tucked the photo back in his bag, along with his three changes of clothes and the files and information the Professor had given him before he'd left.

He hopped off his bike, lit a cigar, and headed into the warmth of the bar.

Author's Note: I apologize for the delay. A new job has kept me one busy bee :D
This chapter is split; the continuation of it will be the next update. Thank you so much for reading and reviewing.

To Be Continued