Chapter Five

St. Petersburg

Twelve establishments so far and nothing for her trouble except three broken hands, not hers, but of the guys who got too close and couldn't take no for an answer. She'd try one more seedy club before calling it a wash.

Slipping a few rubles to the bartender, she discovered the back room was running a high stakes poker game, at the table was an American with a funny accent. Could be anyone, could be the Cajun, wouldn't know until she had a look for herself.

Following directions around back she stayed close to the bar, away from the throngs of dancers with their arms flaying about. Just a light brush against her cheek was enough to at least send the person to the ground dizzy and that would only cause a scene. Besides, she had enough thoughts in her head, she didn't need to add more if she didn't have to.

A bouncer at the entrance was easily bought off and she walked down the hall to the last door on the left. The room itself was fairly big in size, enough to hold a poker table, wet bar, a sofa and chairs. Several scantily clad women sat around, hanger-ons who likely hoped to go home with the highest winner. Smoke hung heavily in the air from two men who puffed on cigars. At least three bodyguards immediately eyed her as she walked in, assessing if she was a threat.

She was of course, but only to the man who specifically positioned himself with his eye-line to both the door and back entrance so that he could be at a tactical advantage.

"Ah, cheri," he acknowledged her almost immediately, folding his hand.

"Gumby," Rogue replied back, the Cajun pausing ever so slightly at the name but then grinning as the winnings went to the player across from him. He didn't seem bothered by the loss as he had a fairly decent pile in front of him.

"Well, gentlemen," he directed to the other players, hat tilted low on his head, "looks like Remy only has a couple of hands left in him, if da lady permits."

"Give me whatever yah stole," she added casually from across the table, "and you can keep playing as long as yah merry content."

He picked up the cards dealt to him by the player to his right, Rogue kept a good watch on the mutant's hands. "You don't even know what it is I stole, petite,"

"Got to be valuable though," she reasoned, shrugging as she stood with her gloved fingers tucked in her pockets. It wasn't particular cold in the room, not exactly hot either. The fact she always had to wear gloves, long sleeves, and usually a jacket or scarf to cover her neck, meant she got used to being a few shades of warm all the time. "I'm sure I can figure something out. Besides, sugah, I'll have it, and you won't."

"Is that all cheri wants from Remy?" he asked as he traded in three cards. "A little revenge for a little fun had?"

"Yah fun," she used the word loosely, "got my friend shot."

"And I take dat as we're attempting a civil conversation he'll pull through just fine," he made a face at the cards in his hand and threw down to fold, "you're bad luck, petite."

"Good," she smirked, trying to figure out what the Cajun's end game was. She only really knew the man from reputation but they had crossed paths a few times when she did work for her Brotherhood pals. Each time usually ended up with a lot of cursing and occasional punching.

The round ended and the player to Gambit's right went to hand him the deck. "Oh, no," she quickly and loudly said, "you skip a deal, Gumball."

He tilted his head in a slightly bemused way then shrugged, letting the deck get passed to the player on his left. "Cheri, would you believe ol' Remy here if he said dat it was all nothing personal."

"Believe? You?" she scoffed, "Why would I believe anyone who tends ta refer to himself in tha first person?"

The Louisianan native laughed, grinning with a smile said to be a gift from the angels themselves, Rogue couldn't see the resemblance herself. "I did wait until you and yours got what you came for, I wasn't dere to cause trouble for da Brotherhood… dis time."

"Oh really?" she wasn't convinced and watched as he took his cards, frowning at them, not much of a poker face.

"Really, cheri," he threw away three cards and got three more, "I was already going to break into da Vault, had me a plan and everything," he grumbled at his new cards.

"Let me guess," she was getting impatient, wondering if she should have just come in swinging, "yah only needed a distraction."

"Of course," he threw his cards down again, a Three of Clubs on top, then glanced up at her fully so she could see his eyes from under the brim of his hat. There was talk that Gambit had more than just a gift at controlling kinetic energy, that his red-iris eyes had the Devil's own charm etched into them and could make even the most stalwart soul want to make a deal with Le Diable Blanc.

Hogwash is what she thought of that.

"A good thief makes a plan," he continued, sitting up to emphasize his words, "a great thief, now, he knows how da improvise."

The cards he tossed onto the table exploded, not massively but enough to send poker chips flying, women scattering, men shouting, and the guards into protection mode. The Cajun was quick and Rogue cleared her eyes from the flash in time to see him run through the back exit. Taking off after the thief she wasn't going to let him get away with what he did that easily.

"Should have saw that coming, Rogue," she mumbled as she burst through the door.

Immediately scanning she saw the Cajun disappear over the roof of the next building. She kicked off the ground and sped up past the two stories to get a good view of the industrial area where the night club was located. It was dark, shadows everywhere, but she had the upper hand of being able to fly over the buildings and peer down, not something LeBeau would be used to hiding from.

There was a slight rustle and movement to her right, like a predatory animal she honed in and immediately flew after it.

The Cajun was sneaking around a large industrial cooling unit and she dropped in front of him, throwing out a punch which he parried away with his cane now extended into a Bo staff. Two more punches and he blocked those as well, but he lost ground, backing up to keep her from connecting. She threw out a kick and he caught her foot but was unable to trip her up, only used the situation to spin around out of her direct line of attack. A jab with her elbow almost caught him but he managed to slip away again, just barely grazing him.

"Stand still, ya mudcat," she shouted at him, using the colloquial name for a cat fish, one of the most slippery fishes to be found in the freshwater rivers and lakes of the South and Mid-West. Point of interest, it's also one of the ugliest.

"And let you connect with dat super strength of yours, petitie?" he laughed, once again blocking her expertly as she rounded on him.

Rogue feinted a punch and kicked out at his leg, he moved away in time but left himself open and she slipped in a jab at his stomach which sent the thief flying twenty feet to slide across the roof. His staff tumbled from his hands and she stepped on it so he didn't get any bright ideas. "Yah mean like that?"

"Ow, cheri," he said through winced teeth as he gripped his side, "you wanted Remy on his back, you only needed to ask."

Rolling her eyes, she moved forward to finish what she started. With a flick of the man's wrist two cards came flying at her and she didn't really dodge. She had learned that with her semi-invulnerability they stung but nothing much more than that. Rogue blocked with her arm and shielded her eyes from the explosion, then took off running after the escaping Cajun.

Quick as a rat he hopped off the roof, bouncing from one wall to another until he hit the alley and raced away. The Southern gal kept on her pursuit, trying to avoid the mass of wires that were hung between the buildings and the collapsed fire escapes which made flying difficult.

Eventually the snake charmer made a mistake and ran into a blind alley, a two story brick wall, no fire escapes to climb, or un-barred windows to dive through, just some trash, a security light, and no place to go.

"Smart move there, Gumbo," Rogue grinned as she blocked the entrance.

The man turned, flicked his hand… nothing happened and he let out a curse in French. He was out of cards to play, literally.

"Now," she tugged off a glove, "you're gonna give me what yah stole, one way or another."

The Cajun looked around, assessing his situation and after a second he straightened up so she could see his eyes, "Tell you what, cheri, I'll give it to you… for a kiss."

Rogue raised an eyebrow, could the man be that dumb? "Yah do realize my absorption abilities covers all of my skin, and I can't control it, I kiss yah and it's lights out."

"The way I look at it," he spread his hands out beside him in an almost surrendering gesture, "I'm going to end up passed out in dis alley one way or another, I'd rather have fond memories of soft lips dan a few broken ribs for my troubles."

The look on her face was likely priceless, and she couldn't exactly argue with the logic, but still, "Yah serious?"

"Remy's always serious about da ladies," he grinned and winked at her.

Rogue shook her head, "Now, why don't I trust yah?"

If possible, that grin became broader, wider, and dare she admit finally a little short of dashing, "Because, mon cheri, you have a heighten sense of self-preservation."

"Yeah," she nodded, considering his words, "that would do it."

"Fret none, petite," he again splayed his hands, "I give you my word as a thief dat I won't try anything, won't fight ya, so long as you keep your end of da deal."

She thought about it for a moment, again unsure at what game this King of Thieves was playing, and whether she would be playing for or against it if she took him up on his offer. Still, if she did drain him, she'd not only get the item but also its value and an idea of what to do with it. "What does tha word of a thief go for these days?"

"A good thief you can trust not to cross you," he informed her with a dead serious tint to his voice, "a great thief can always keeps his word."

"And you're 'the greatest thief in the world'," she smirked, putting the words in finger quotes.

"Well," he gave a timid shrug, "I do like to brag."

A chuckle escaped her lips as she came to her decision, "And here I thought only Pyro liked ta play with fire."

He lightly chuckled in return and Rogue slowly approached him, eyes darting from his hands, his feet, his body language, and it all spoke to her of a man who was simply standing there, not tense or ready to pounce. Still, when she got close enough, she grabbed him by his wrists and had she not chosen that moment to look up at the thief she would have noticed a couple of cards tumble out of his sleeve onto the ground.

"Come on petite," LeBeau said softly, "where's da trust?"

"Left it in Mississippi, muskrat," she had been so focused on making sure that the man continued to not be a threat to her that she only now noticed how close she had gotten to him. Though she was wearing a leather jacket she could feel her body brushed up against his and just how powerful of a build the thief had on such a nimble flame. He smelt of the Cajun world he came from, spicy and husky, not exactly unpleasant.

"Don't be thinking of cheating me, cheri," he warned playfully, his red-colored eyes sparkling and she became torn between kissing him on the lips or the cheek. He never said where but a full on kiss had been implied.

Lips are very sensitive areas and that made the absorption process much quicker and dangerous, she could easily put the man into a comma. Would serve him right.

He was a little taller than her so she had to tip on her toes and he dropped his head down so that their lips would connect. The Cajun tasted as rugged as he looked with a hint of whiskey on his breath that only heighten the tingle she felt at the contact. With her mutant curse, a simple kiss like this was a luxury she could hardly ever afford and she savored it, even if it came from such a questionable source.

Within seconds her ability kicked in and she felt the essence of Remy LeBeau flow into her. She could see, feel, and practically taste the movement of the world around her. Every atom shook with real and potential kinetic energy, the world unable to function without it. It was a power that was now hers to control.

Then came the memories, a virtual grab bag of what just happened to be in easy reach, foremost was the Cajun's pleasure at stealing a kiss from the untouchable, beautiful, Rogue.

As always, the victim of her powers went unconscious and fell back from her, breaking the contact after not even a minute. She let him fall to the ground on his own, he didn't deserve her care.

"Guess it was worth it, huh, cheri," she said, her southern accent slipping a bit into the Cajun dialect.

Remy LeBeau, greatest thief in the world, lay passed out on the ground almost peaceful like.

Sorting the stolen memories she leaned over him and went through his pockets, her hands instinctively going towards the hidden King of Hearts. As she held the worn card in her hand a spike of emotional pain drove through Rogue's heart and her eyes turned red before she could shake it off. She didn't dare touch the emotions again, they were too volatile to be worth the trouble, but the card meant something to the Cajun and that was enough to steal it.

Slipping it into her jacket she then went for the item that Gambit had taken from the Vault. Folded in a bottom inside pocket of his trench was the inch thick file. All the jewels and whatnot in the Vault and he only took a file?

Rogue flipped it open and attached to the contract was a dossier, a color surveillance photo neatly placed on top.

Images from three weeks before assaulted her mind, memories of the man, Henri, her brother, no, LeBeau's brother, getting shot and dying in her arms… his arms. Memories of LeBeau's anger at the contract he stole not giving him any more information than another lead to follow to the person or persons responsible.

"Oh, Gambit," she whispered.

…

Rogue sat on a milk-crate she had found amongst the trash with a deck of cards in her hand. Gambit had them stuck in one of his many pockets. She stared at the simple object and willed energy into it, storing a potential kinetic surge before tossing it towards the brick wall with an expert flick of her wrist. Again, it exploded on impact with a soft puff, she wasn't charging them very much, doing this more to pass the time than to do any damage.

The Cajun started to sit up from where she left him, scratching at his head as if he had awoken from a midday nap. "You don't exaggerate, cheri, lights out indeed."

"How do you get the charge to delay?" she asked, flicking another card only to have it again discharge on contact.

"Don't absorb it all den, petite?" he said the words curiously before standing, snatching up his hat and dusting himself off, "Takes lots of practice, more dan you'll have to play with my powers."

The thief was right, she'd have maybe another hour or two of being able to affect kinetic energy before it faded away. But learning that skill wasn't why she stuck around, she looked up at him, "You wanted me ta kiss yah."

He laughed, flipping the trilby onto his head, "Dat's generally the idea, cheri."

"No, I mean," she stood so she could confront the Cajun, picking up the file from her lap where she had kept it, "yah wanted ta make sure I absorbed yah memories, that I saw what happened ta yah brother. Tha only thing I didn't catch was why."

"Did you read da file?" he gestured to the papers in her hand.

"Yeah," she held it up so he could take it back. "I didn't know tha Moscow Assassins Guild stored their contracts in tha Catherine Vault."

"Few do," he admitted, taking it and slipping it back into his trench. "Moscow was subcontracted through de Tokyo Assassins Guild, but dey didn't issue de contract either."

"It got funneled around until someone would take it," she figured that much out herself reading the contract. "Why? And why Henri, not…"

"Why not me?" he gave her a bitter smile, "Dat's what I'm trying to find out."

Again, this was obvious to her, but why did he want her to know what he was doing? "I don't know anything about what happened, I didn't even know yah had a brother."

"Didn't think you did, cheri," his smile turned conspiratorially, "but you can do something dat would come in very handy to me, you can fly."

Rogue was a little taken aback by the fact he said fly and not 'absorb memories' as that was usually what everyone asked her to do as part of the plan, followed by punching things very, very hard. "Why yah need someone who can fly?"

"De Toyko Guild keeps all their files and information in their headquarters," the Cajun explained, a laughing grin on his face, "makes da Catherine Vault look like an evening soiree."

"And how would I be able ta help yah break in?" she questioned.

"You wouldn't," he shrugged easily before grinning broader, "but I know someone on da inside who will tell me what I want to know, for a price, but not money."

"Ah," it was making sense now, "yah planning a heist."

"And dere I was, figuring it all out when you walked into da room," the Cajun's eyes twinkled at the thought, "as I said, a great thief improvises."

"Ugh! Yah let yourself get trapped," she pushed him, not hard enough to knock him down but enough to make her feel better. "Yah snake thief!"

"Don't take it personally, cheri," he kept that stupid grin on his face, chuckling, "and besides, I'll pay you, twenty percent above standard rates for da kind of job I have in mind."

The Southern gal gave him a sour look, "Well now, why didn't yah lead with that?"

"Would you have taken da job if I had offered it?" he asked.

"No."

"Would you have even listened?" he added.

"No."

He stepped forward into her comfort zone, "Would you have believed me if I had told you dis was about my brother?"

She took a second to think that one over, but ultimately, "No."

Gambit gave another little chuckle and fixed his hat before walking past her, "Manhattan, sundown, two days from now, corner of Worth and Broadway, and bring dat card you lifted off me, I'll be having it back."

"I never said I'd take the job, Cajun," she called after him.

He glanced over his shoulder, "Sure you did, cheri, still here aren't ya?"

Rogue could have just thumped the man on his noggin but he disappeared around the corner so instead she shouted, "Well… you're not getting your card back!"

It could have been her imagination but the man's deep chuckle traveled back to her, taunting her.

She stood in the quiet of an alley, dead of night, nary a soul around, after practically making a deal with the devil. Yeah, she was totally played, "Like a freaking fiddle."