Author's Note: Thanks again for reading! Here we find out that Rogue may be spending too much time with the Cajun!

Chapter Ten

Petra, Jordan

"No, that is completely unacceptable," Jacob stood at the window of his luxury suite at the Mövenpick Nabatean Castle Hotel in Petra, Jordan. "The terms of the shipment contract were agreed upon by all parties."

The voice on the other end tried to bolster and he let the man get it out of his system.

There was a crack and hiss, the door to his suite flying open with force. He turned to see his bodyguard collapse onto the ground with Gambit stomping forward, glowing card in his hand, looking at the Courier as if he meant to strangle him.

"Have to call you back, your Excellency," Jacob managed to slip the phone into his pocket before being roughly grabbed by the collar and pushed against the window frame. His friend held a glowing playing card at his throat, Two of Clubs, "A Deuce, seriously? I'm worth at least a Jack."

"Charge is still da same," the mutant pointed out, the Courier noting a small wound healing on the thief's hair-line. Just what has his friend been up to the past few weeks? He'd heard rumors…

But that was for later, at the moment he was being forcibly held and his life threatened. To be honest, Jacob wasn't afraid, he knew the Cajun well enough to know that he could be intimidating, but ultimately, the thief's ruthlessness was only a bluff. "What's this about, Remy?"

"It's about da contract you delivered to da Tokyo Assassins Guild," he emphasized by pressing him harder into the frame, the catch for the curtains starting to dig into his back, "da contract on Henri."

"Oh," he said, reassessing his position with that new knowledge, "that."

"Yes," the charged card came closer to his neck, stinging a bit, "dat."

"Come on, LeBeau, you know how I work," Jacob didn't have time for this, his friend knew better, "I deliver packages and items, I never ask questions and never look inside. You think that was the first sealed contract I ever delivered to an Assassin's Guild? Think it will be the last?"

The Cajun went silent, likely trying to reconcile his emotions with the truth of the matter. It was at this point Jacob saw the woman who had followed Gambit in. Attractive, but then all the women around his Louisianan friend were, but she had a hardness to her, like someone who wasn't afraid to get into a fight. Her hair was a deep red, much like Remy's eyes, but there was a white streak down the side.

It only took him a second to recognize her as one of Magneto's Brotherhood of Mutants. Her special abilities included flight, strength, and a succubus style absorption power. Why on Earth would she be here with the Cajun thief? As far as the Courier was aware, the Brotherhood and Remy did not get along, not since that little incident in Baghdad.

With a growl, Gambit let him go and tossed the card out the open window, the deuce exploding with a small pop.

"You could have told me about da contract," LeBeau spat as he paced away.

Jacob straightened his suit, "A Russian killed Henri, and besides, all my courier contracts are confidential."

"Dis was my brother," he argued harshly.

"I know," Jacob tried not to raise his voice, "I transported his body back to New Orleans for you, remember?" Body transport was not easy, even for the Courier, and it was a high-dollar service, one which he waved the fee on seeing as Remy LeBeau was his friend.

"Just tell me who issued da contract," Gambit finally asked, perhaps a touch of pleading in his voice, it was hard to tell.

"I'm sorry," he shook his head, coming to a decision once he put all the facts together, "You're my friend, and I'm telling you, let it go. If I tell you who issued the contract you're going to destroy more than our friendship."

Red eyes narrowed at him, "You know something."

"I'm putting two and two together," the news that the Tokyo job had actually been a contract on Henri LeBeau put what seemed like coincidence into startling sense. "You need to walk away from this."

"Damn it, Jacob, I can't just walk away," the man shouted, his jaw going tight, "not again."

"Fine," he threw his hands up, his friend too stubborn for his own good, "but I'm not going to tell you who issued the contract."

"Jake—"

"No," he cut the man off with a hand gesture. "Blast me into smithereens with your cards if it'll make you feel better, I'm not going to let you ruin your life."

The thief looked like he seriously considered it, then waved him off, "Bah, you'll just put yourself back together."

Jacob let himself grin just a touch, it was quite handy to be on a first name basis with every one of your cells. What, you think he managed to always be this perfectly put together without a little help from some kind of mutant power? He saved an absolute fortune on haircuts and facial cleansing products.

"Hi," the woman walked up beside him, he had almost forgotten she was there, "name's Rogue."

She offered her hand and he checked, it was still gloved, so he cautiously took it, "Jacob Gavin Jr., and I know who you are."

"Oh, good, saves on introductions," she smiled as she shook his hand, her Southern drawl as thick as Gambit's but the dialect different, he couldn't place it. "Yah probably wondering why I'm here then."

"Yes," he said curiously, "what do you have invested in all this?"

"Why nothing, sugah," she said sweetly as she placed her other gloved hand over the one she was shaking and he could feel her grip tightly holding it in place, "nothing at all."

A minute later the Courier found himself at least ten thousand feet in the air, maybe more, perhaps less, he wasn't exactly in the position to check as he was dragged out the open window by the flying mutant. Especially when she flipped him over to hold onto him by his leg so he was upside down. If he hadn't been so terrified then he'd have a very lovely view of the hotel and surrounding Petra Mountains.

"Smell that fresh, clean air," she dragged in a deep breath, "kinda thin up here though."

"Are you crazy?" he shouted, his phone slipping from his pocket and disappearing into the background.

"Don't rightly believe so," she said as if she had to think about it, "but I figure even a fella who can talk to every cell in his body couldn't survive a fall like this. Gravity is a funny thing, yah know."

Unfortunately, she was probably right.

"You wouldn't dare!" Jacob challenged, nothing in what he could remember of the woman's dossier showed her to be as merciless as the other Brotherhood members could be.

"Sugah," she laughed tiredly, "my friend got shot, I've been bamboozled, and now a whole gaggle of Yakuza are probably after my head, I'm in no mood ta be dared."

Courier ran that through his head, "I thought you had nothing invested in this?"

"I don't," she adjusted her grip on his ankle, "guess that does make me crazy then."

"Oh, great," he was going to pass out and not from the blood running to his head as he managed to keep most of it circulating properly using his mutant ability.

"Now," she said seriously, "yah gonna be a good little courier and tell Gambit what he wants ta know?"

"No!"

"Why not?" it was like she really couldn't understand his reasoning.

"Because he's my friend," he shouted up at her, "it's better for him this way."

"If he's your friend then yah need to let him make that choice on his own," she shouted back at him. "He ain't gonna stop until he finds out, one way or another, and how much damage will he do ta himself searching for that truth? Who are yah trying ta protect here, you or him?"

Jacob opened his mouth to retort, but ultimately the woman was right. He could tell Remy to walk away all he wanted but the Cajun would never, ever, let it go. "I break a contract, it could ruin me."

"No one has ta know it was you," she said grabbing his flailing arm to pull him into a horizontal position. "I can make sure of it, I know people."

Looking over his shoulder to the ground far below, he had to ask, "Why are you doing this for him?"

"Because…" she hesitated, "he's my friend too, and I figure he ain't got many ta lose one."

So many questions ran through his mind, none of which he dared ask in such a precarious position. "Fine, I'll tell him everything I know."

Seemingly satisfied she took him under the shoulders, facing forward, and flew back down towards the hotel. Within moments they approached the window to his suite at a rather fast speed. The woman tossed him forward and he landed on the bed softly though it did creak at the strain. She of course landed lightly and walked around to the side of the bed.

Remy LeBeau, who had been casually flipping cards through his hand, simply stared in amusement at the sight as it played out.

"Gambit," she said like a school teacher, "Mr. Jacob Gavin Jr. here has something he'd like ta say to yah."

The thief walked over to the other side of the bed as Courier flipped himself over and sat up. "Does he now?"

Jacob glanced between them, letting his disapproval show, but ultimate he admitted, "I picked up the contract… in New Orleans."

"Marius." the Cajun immediately spouted the name of the Patriarch of the New Orleans Assassins Guild.

"No," Jacob quickly corrected, "it had no official markers or seals from the Assassins Guild and you know how much of a stickler they are about everything being 'proper'."

Gambit opened his mouth to speak then stopped, his eyes darting to the left and back as if it wasn't the answer he was expecting, "Then who?"

"I don't know exactly," he confessed, it was just another courier job, he remembered them all but nothing special came to mind about this one, "I picked up the package at the Pelham Hotel, no seals, just a plan brown envelope."

"Who gave it to you?" his friend asked.

"Didn't share a name and I didn't asked," Jacob added that last part as a reminder of how he does business. "A rather simple looking fellow. Close cropped blond hair, cracked tooth, but otherwise unremarkable."

LeBeau started to pace a bit, "What was he wearing?"

This was getting ridiculous, "Ah, khakis, brown, um, polo, blue I think."

"Anyone yah know?" Rogue asked.

Gambit shook his head, "No, but da way it sounds, could be thief or assassin."

"Or anyone from off the street," Jacob pointed out. "Hell, whoever issued it could have specifically sent someone to New Orleans to give it to me, they could be from anywhere."

"Guess I'll have to find out den," the man made up his mind quickly.

"No," the courier shook his head, this was what he feared, "no, this is why I didn't want to say anything, Remy. You can't go back to New Orleans, you know kind what trouble that will cause."

"Cross dat bridge," he said succinctly, then looked over at the woman, "not a bad bluff dere, cheri."

"Yah really think so?" she asked, crossing her arms, not looking too sure, "Thought I might've oversold it."

"Wait, what?" It took a second for Jacob to register the words, "Oh, I knew you wouldn't drop me."

"Of course she wouldn't, mon ami," Gambit grinned, "had petite really wanted to hurt you, you'd be lying in a drooling puddle right now."

Jacob glanced over at Rogue, she tapped her gloved finger against her arm and he remembered her ability to absorb both mutant abilities and memories from anyone she touched. He sighed and held his head in his hand, "Of course."

The Cajun laughed, "Yeah, dis one as gentle as a kitten."

"Oh, please," she wasn't terribly impressed with his assertion, "like I haven't figured out that yah can't charge those cards enough ta make them deadly, that's why yah favor 'em."

Gambit continued to grin, "Course, kittens have claws too."

Glancing between the two mutants that flanked his bed, "I'm gonna be sick."

"Aw, don't be like, mon ami," LeBeau said happily, patting him on the back, "you're going to get me into N'Orlean, seeing as I'm not exactly welcomed dere anymore."

"Oh, no, no, no," he shook his head, "I told you, I'm not your taxi service."

Rogue unzipped part of her jacket and pulled out a familiar folded over manila envelope and tossed it at him. "I'm hiring ya, that should cover it."

Turning the package over in his hands he noticed that it hadn't been opened in the weeks since Remy received it from the Italian. He wanted to know how she came to have possession of it, but instead asked, "You're hiring me to take you to New Orleans?"

"Yeah," she grinned, looking over at the Cajun, "and would Gambit count as a carry-on or plain old baggage?"

…

She was on the second ring of the third number she had tried. That was the thing about trying to get a hold of someone on most international watch lists for possible terrorist activities, made sending Christmas Cards a pain too.

"Who's this?" the voice on the other end asked rather severely.

"Pyro, it's Rogue," she said before he could decide to hang up on the number he didn't recognize.

"Hey, where are you?" his tone changed when he realized it was a friend.

"Private airport in Jordan," she answered honestly, glancing over to where LeBeau and Jacob sat waiting in the private lounge. She had borrowed one of the phones, didn't want to use hers, and found a corner to talk in. "Waiting for my ride ta get refueled, kinda last minute thing."

"What are you doing in Jordan?" her Australian friend asked.

"Long story," she almost laughed, "called ta check up on yah. How's tha shoulder?"

"Healing fine," Pyro said easily, most mutants tended to heal a little faster than regular humans. "Actually, QuickSilver wants me to help him with another mission for Magneto. Want in?"

Normally she'd say sure and roll with it, these were her Brotherhood friends after all, but glancing back at the two men she hesitated, "Do yah need me?"

"Not particularly," he referred to her absorption power, it was always how they saw her, "it's an easy one, me and Pietro should knock it out with no fuss."

She tried not to sound relieved, "Then I'll pass this time."

There was a significant pause on the other end of the line, "You okay, Rogue?"

"I'm fine," she said easily but the man would know better.

"Heard a rumor," he replied slowly, "you and the Cajun have been running around together. Stole from the Angel and then took out some Yakuza in Tokyo?"

"Yah know better than ta listen ta rumors," she tipped some humor into her voice.

"And I know last the time I saw you, you went out thief hunting," he pointed out, "don't tell me you let that Cajun say more than five words to you?"

She glanced back at the men, Courier reading a newspaper and Gambit showing a card trick to the stewardess who was entirely too interested in the simple ruse. Rogue and the Cajun had gone from Russia to New York to Tokyo to Jordan, thieving, fighting, and swindling the whole way… "Maybe."

"Ah, Rogue," he held out the vowels, "you got played, didn't you. What'd he trick you into?"

Sighing, she repeated the words to herself as she said them over the phone, "I know I got played, at first. But now, it's different. I'm here because I want to be."

"Come on, Rogue," he didn't bother to hid his frustrated, "you can't trust him. He's a snake charmer, remember, you said so yourself? He'll manipulate you into doing what he wants and you'll only think it was your idea."

"It's…" she hesitated, worried that he was right, but still, "it's not like that." Did she really just say that?

"Oh? Oooh…" she could imagine the shake of his head, "no, no Rogue, don't let him get into your head."

"You're not my brother, John, don't act like it," she said a bit too harshly into the phone. "I can take care of myself."

"I know you can," he replied softly, always her best friend, "but this is the Cajun we're talking about. He's a loner and a womanizer. He can only be using you."

As he said the words, LeBeau continued to charm the stewardess with his fancy moves. Rogue would never be impressed with such simple parlor tricks… but was he smart enough to figure that out. She knew why she continued to carry on with the man, at least she thought she did. Could she still be being played by a master?

"Maybe he is," she finally admitted it to herself as well as to the Aussie, "but I know why he's doing it, and I do want ta help him."

"He got me shot!" he said incredulously.

"Hey," she almost laughed, smirking at the phone, "you were tha one who said don't hold a grudge, remember?"

"I, uh, eth," there was an exasperated sigh from the other end, "just… don't trust him, Rogue."

"Oh," she grinned, sneaking another glance at the thief, "I don't trust him, got a heightened sense of self preservation with that man."

"Good," he at least seemed satisfied. "I'll keep this line free, you need help, you call."

She smiled at his over-protectiveness, there was a reason he was one of the few people in this world she trusted, "I will, thanks."

"You gonna tell me where you're going?" he asked.

"Course not," and with that she hung up on the Australian.

Watching the group, the stewardess was called away by the steward to help prep and the co-pilot was now talking to Courier so she gathered they would be ready to board soon. Her eyes caught the Cajun's from across the room and he smiled at her, just smiled.

Maybe the man was sincere in his gratefulness to have people stick by him in this troubled time, maybe he was playing the part he needed to in order to get her to tag along willingly.

She'd find out soon enough… and she had a feeling it was going to be one hell of a ride.

Author's Note: The deuce line, again, stolen from the comics. Courier gets some of the best lines.