He said 'Son, I've made a life out of readin' people's faces',
Knowin' what the cards were by the way they held their eyes.
Rogue let out an annoyed huff as her eyes began to twinkle, the sun was setting and the dim orange of sunrays was irritating her sleep. Opening her eyes again, she blinked a few times to make sure she was not going crazy –but in fact, she was in the passenger's seat of some car.
With a shriek, she glanced up at the Louisiana man driving the car and humming a country song as if nothing in the past twenty four hours ever happened. She noticed the rope around her wrists and also around her ankles, already fed up with this sick game of kidnapping.
"Bonjour, chére," Gambit smiled in a good mood, hands on the wheel as he kept driving. "Y' early," he noted, glancing up at her. "How did y' sleep?"
She snorted at him, the nerve he had to ask that. He literally knocked her out cold and now, she found herself in a damn car going to God knows where. Well, that was how people must be feeling when they woke up from her coma.
She looked out of the window, they were still in Salem. Good, that meant she wasn't out cold for so much time, but in general it had been enough time for the morning sun to set.
"I've never been a fan o' silent treatment m'self," he said, keeping his attention on the road. She noticed he got himself a new pair of shades. "But for now, I won't blame y', p'tite."
She narrowed her eyes, ignoring his comment whatsoever. "Where are we goin'?" she asked, eyes accusingly staring at him.
"Oh, she talks," he gave her a grin, nodding his head approvingly. His left hand reached out to his side to grab some food he got for the rode and gently offered her. "Thought y' might be hungry."
She hesitantly grabbed the sandwich with her both hands and did a good job with removing the packaging, it wasn't her first time being kidnapped anyway. Something to master at, way to go. Taking a bite from her sandwich, her eyes darted back to him again as she was chewing quietly. What could he possibly want from her?
"I know a place t' crash," he informed her, moving his head faintly to the sound of the same country song on the radio. "Mais, I assure y' it's better than t' one we stayed las' night."
Every gambler knows that the secret to survivin'
Is knowin' what to throw away and knowin' what to keep.
Rogue rolled her eyes, maybe this was a sign for her to stop helping people. If it wasn't for her offer to stitch him up, she would've left him in the alley and let him take care of his ass himself and she would be minding her business. But no, always had to be a hero.
Maybe she truly was an X-Men.
"If that was for the song," he gestured her face and murmured something that sounded like unbelievable. "Y' should be ashamed, chére. Y' of all people should give Kenny Rogers some respect."
She couldn't help but make a face, not every southerner had to like every southern artist –although, she remembered that her parents used to love Kenny Rogers and listened to his album in the little cottage they lived. Aunt Carrie used to carry his albums everywhere. Heavens, did she really remember something about a life she had left behind long ago? She had buried all the memories into a grave she didn't want to visit ever again. But here she was, driving off to god knows where with some mentally unstable person and listening to Kenny Rogers on some strange road trip.
Taking another bite from her sandwich, she eyed the Cajun cautiously. What could he possibly want from her? She had literally been nothing but nice towards him from the beginning. From flirting strangers to fighting enemies, they sure had a lot going on in less than twenty four hours.
Also, she had stitched him up and they both never mentioned it once during that time –as if some miracle happened while he was sleeping and some nursing angels just came to his aid. Yeah, right. As a sound that was pretty much like a snort came out of her mouth, he raised his shades up to on top of his head, trying to intimidate her less if she saw his facial gestures. But she gave him a frown in return, unimpressed by his sudden friendliness. "You're welcome, by the way," she muttered, finishing her sandwich and making a ball with the package, letting it fall down to her heeled boots.
Gambit shot her a questioning look with a puzzled frown on his face, causing her to roll her eyes again. "That stitch didn't just magically happen, ya know," she made a comment. "Ah did it myself and being an ungrateful swamp snake you are, ya never thanked me."
Instead of making a comment or coming up with a sarcastic response, he had actually laughed out loud. With the nerve he had, she couldn't help but look bewildered. His laugh lasted for a couple of seconds more and she had kept looking at him with the same strange expression on her face. His laugh was rich and genuine, which confused her even more. If he had been seriously mentally unstable, she was going to start fearing for herself from now on.
"Oh, chére," he even wiped his eye with his left hand, shaking his head disapprovingly at her with a grin on his face. "The lil' frown and silent treatment was for moi being ungrateful?" he asked as he kept glancing up at her way with interest. "I thought it was for the road trip."
"Good lord, it is for the road trip," she shook her head, seriously seizing his whole behavior up. "But Ah'm just sayin'. Instead of thankin' me, you just kidnapped me which is more concernin'."
He flashed her another grin. "Merci, chére," he said in all honesty. "Tue es un ange,"he added, she did was like an angel truth to be told. He realized she didn't even leave his side when she knocked him out, where she could just run away easily. But after knowing about her mutation, he realized she was more than just an angelic figure –but rather, a deadly weapon he could need the help of. "If it's any consolation, y' stitches were more than appreciated."
She didn't say anything, but turned her head towards the window. She didn't quite remember every diner in Salem of course, but this one seemed familiar. Maybe she had come here before with Bobby after some mission.
Thinking of Bobby made her also think about her former team. She wondered if anyone at the mansion was worried at all. Surely, her leaving the institute hadn't been long enough for them to worry. But she didn't respond to any text messages from the night before, either. She bit her bottom lip, her phone was nowhere to be found, the Louisiana man probably took it before he tied her hands. Because it was like Kidnapping 101, always check the person's belongings and stole them.
She leaned her head against the window and closed her eyes, wondering the fact that why it was her that got in this type of situations. Did something about the way she looked scream kidnapping potential? And she was actually furious with herself, after the first time she should have been smarter, but instead she had actually acted like some inexperienced girl who briefly fell for a charming snake.
Sensing her sudden unease and lack of attention, Gambit frowned and gave her a little pout. "C'mon, p'tite, no sulkin'" he said, crimson eyes on hers. "Gambit promises t' be nice 'bout the whole trip."
She blinked blankly at his delusional mental state. "Nice as in attack me?" she narrowed her eyes at him. "Or knock me out and kidnap me, Ah don't know which one is nicer, Cajun."
He gave her a nonchalant shrug. "That had t' be done, je suis désolé," he said firmly. "But Gambit has t' be cautious, chére. Y' jus' happened t' know so much about me, needed t' make sure y' weren't the enemy."
"Ah'm relieved to finally put an end to this understatement," she rolled her eyes at him, her conjoined hands waving at him. "Ah did tell you Ah wasn't, you just didn't listen."
"I've experienced enough t' not trust people at first sight, p'tite."
"Thanks for the lesson," she mocked, frowning in response. "Ah'll keep that in mind when Ah get kidnapped next time."
"Come on, chére," he looked amused at her exaggeration the whole trip, clicking at his tongue at her and making a sound. "Y' act like it's not y' first time," he noted, an eyebrow raised. For someone at her age, she looked more mature than the rest, he had observed that before. But if what he asked was to be true, that had been an underestimate.
"You actually think this is funny," she groaned in despair, wondering again why she was in a fucking car with him. Her hands reached to her face, rubbing her temple in a weary demeanor. She had seen psychopaths, she had met sociopaths, she knew what they looked like and she knew how they talked. But compared to them, Gambit did actually have some nice attitude towards her last night. Maybe he was beginning to be one, like an amateur sociopath? Also, he was very charming at the beginning, a mutual feature among the sociopaths she had met before –like that damn Magneto. Looking annoyed at him, she sighed and muttered, "And no, not the first time."
His expression changed to something gentle, but she refused the possibility. It was probably more mind games he wanted to fuck with her head. "What happened?" he asked, his stare was firmly located at the road, checking for road signs.
"Why would you care?" she asked back, she would have put a hand on her hip if she could.
His eyes darted at her in interest, shrugging faintly. Okay, if she wasn't willing to chitchat, he wasn't going to force her to do so. However, he really didn't want to treat her like shit, she didn't deserve to be treated like one at all. He even wondered if he asked nicely before, would she accept to help him or not. But after the morning's events, knocking each other out and everything, she probably wouldn't and he really didn't want to risk in a game he knew he had a chance to win.
There had been a long silence after that. He didn't pursue her and she didn't feel like talking anymore, so they just listened more radio and watched the road as they passed lots of diners and cheap motels.
Half an hour later, he mumbled something about a place and pulled the car to the right, parking it in front of some building which seemed to be a bed and breakfast type of accommodation. Le Paradis, she did read that on the signboard, was not a fancy hotel –but he sure was right, it was much better than the last night's poorly decorated motel.
But hey, at least they had a pillow that had real feathers in it, not some fiber.
As Gambit parked the car, his attention was back at her, his red eyes piercing through hers as he was checking her whole situation. Her hands were tied, as well as her ankles –so that would definitely be suspicious when checking in.
He bent over to untie her ankles, which was done less than ten seconds. Rogue was impressed by that fact, but didn't show any expression. His hand reached out to lower his shades back to his eyes and took a bag from the back seat.
"I really hope y' behave yourself, p'tite," he nodded his head at her. "I'd really hate to be mean to y'."
She eyed him with a suspicious look again and narrowed her eyes. Of course she was going to try to run away, what did he expect? If he wanted a lady with manners, he should've kidnapped another woman.
He nudged her arm gently, leading her to get out of the car. She did as she was told, looking around the place immediately. She had no fucking clue where they were, the swamp rat probably took the alternate roads to avoid her fleeing. The road signs didn't show anywhere, either. Only if she had a phone, she would use navigation of Le Paradis to learn where the hell they were.
She nearly jumped out of surprise when he touched her gloved hand and untied the rope. She took a deep breath in relief, only to find out it was replaced by freaking handcuffs. "Cuffs?" she asked in disbelief, he had to be kidding. And not only her right hand was cuffed, it was cuffed to his own left hand. Un-fucking-believable.
He gave her a reckless shrug and began walking towards the building, dragging her behind. She huffed in annoyance and followed him inside, walking to the register. It was a good looking place, she had to hand him that. But she was still a captive, so that really didn't matter.
The register counter was small and clean. A woman with long, red hair was filing her nails behind the counter, a phone was squeezed between her cheek and her shoulder, talking as she rolled her eyes. "Mhm," she said to the person on the other side of the phone, not noticing the two approaching her. "Oh, she said that?" she asked in disbelief, her brown eyes widening in surprise. "I can't believe she did that!"
"Bonjour, chére."
Her brown eyes were directly on him, as Gambit approached with a smile on his lips. She pressed her hand on her mouth to stop herself from screaming and cheered silently. "Jennie, I'm gonna call you in a minute," and she hung up the phone, not even waiting for a response. Rogue almost rolled her eyes.
"You," the redhead smirked flirtatiously. "I didn't know when you'd be back."
"Had some business t' take care of," he replied with the same flirtatious smile, his free arm leaning on the counter. "Hope you have a room f' me."
She playfully nudged his arm, her long finger nails playing on his bicep through his leather coat. "What do you mean you hope, of course we do," she said, her eyelashes stirring. "How long are you staying?" she asked in a husky tone, almost whispering which caused Rogue to actually roll her eyes.
"Not much," Gambit grinned and whispered something in her ear, making her giggle. Oh, dear god, end this now. Rogue grabbed a pen nearby, in attempt to keep it in her pocket and maybe stab him with a pen in the near future, but ended up dropping the pen and getting both of their attention. The redhead noticed her presence and raised her thin eyebrows at her. "Oh, hello," she said, annoyingly, eyes darting between him and her. "You're staying together?" she asked, not noticing the cuffs as his hand caught the other's rapidly, making it look like a couple holding hands.
"No."
"Yes," Gambit replied, ignoring the other southerner's comment and flashed another charming smile at the redhead. Although the woman was purely annoyed with her, she returned the smile and typed something at her computer.
"Let's see," she said, looking at him under her eyelashes. "What a coincidence, your room is available after all," she remarked with a wink. "Let me know if I can help with anything, you can call me at night, too."
"Magnifique," he smiled brightly and gave her a little nod, fixing his shades as the pair began walking towards the elevator. The redhead was still watching them both in envy when the elevator doors opened. Gambit pressed on the fifth floor and checked his reflection in the mirror, causing the other southerner to roll her eyes again for the third time.
"Ah'm gonna barf," she asserted, shaking her head disapprovingly at the scene she had just witnessed at the register with the redhead.
"Y' weren't gonna barf las' night," he replied back, stunning her in silence. She tried to come back with a smart reply, but couldn't think of any as he was so on point. She could go on and say it was due to alcohol, but he would probably say something about that, too.
So instead, she just turned her head opposite of his direction and tried to hide the color in her cheeks. But of course, he had noticed and smirked proudly.
The elevator doors opened and they began walking to their room, he had stopped in front of some room that had "9" written on it. Opening the door with his digital card, he walked inside and took a glance at the room. It was exactly as the way he remembered, not so fancily decorated minimalist room, with a mini table, a white couch and a television. In the middle, there was a double bed with two commodes on each side. The room's light colored decoration was actually a nice touch, seeing as there was nothing but miles of meadow on the road.
He walked up to the bed, dragging her behind and put his bag on the bed. He was searching for something inside the bag and she couldn't quite see what was inside of his bag, but he ended up holding another burner phone. Realizing she was watching him with interest, he cocked his head aside and removed his shades, throwing them on the bed. "Hope y' like the room, p'tite," he said with a small smile. "I know the bed's double, but it'll be easier t' check on y' this way," he added with a shrug.
"Ah thought you'd sleep on the couch."
"But why, chére," he looked offended. "Gambit promised t' behave himself, didn't he?"
Rogue rolled her eyes and gave him a weary sigh. "Your promises don't mean anythin', swamp rat," she held her hand up high, indirectly raising his own and showing him the fact that she was a captive under his watch. "Especially when you don't answer a damn thing about why Ah'm here in this fucked up plan of yours. Ever since this mornin' we've been playin' road trip buddies, just tell me why and get on with it."
Staring at her for a moment, he clicked at his tongue in a disapproving manner and muttered something in French that she couldn't understand, before he masterfully removed his own handcuff and cuffed her to the bed frame. Heavens to Betsy, how the fuck was he so good at this? He had done it twice in an hour and she was pretty much impressed by that, but again, didn't show any sign of that impression. He took his small bag on the bed and placed it on the couch, where she couldn't reach.
She leaned against the bed in a sitting position and watched him began pacing in the room back and forth. He was obviously planning something, with his index finger resting on his chin. After a couple of turns on back and forth, he had dialed a number and waited. When the other person apparently answered, he let out a grin appear on his face. "Bonjour, mon frére," he said in a good mood. "I need a favor," he added, before walking out of the room and closing the door behind.
Rogue quickly looked around. Again the room was on the fifth floor, she was unable to jump from the window if she got a chance. The only way to do so was through the door, but he was like a Doberman guarding his home –always on alert. Therefore, instead of trying to run away, she began to think of things she could hurt him with. There was a phone and a menu on the commode, the remote of the television was on the other side. There didn't seem anything useful at all, but maybe she could find something in the bathroom.
On other thought, maybe the dual bed was a smart move seeing as having him close meant an opportunity to touch him. Now she was thinking like her former team.
But also, she was intrigued to know why she was here. He was nice and everything until she used her powers, but then she happened to be the key in his master plan. What was the plan and why was she important all of a sudden?
"Merci, Henri," said Gambit as he opened the door and walked in, hanging up the phone as he glanced up at her. He really did look like he was unsure of what to do with her, as if kidnapping her had been an impulsive decision. Well, no kidding.
He opened the doors of the television unit, cheering as he came across the mini bar. "Look, chére," he offered her a genuine smile. "Don't know why, mais I have a thing f' these mini things, ain't they jus' adorable?" he asked, holding a mini version of scotch whiskey that was put on the door of the mini refrigerator, along with ten other alcoholic beverages.
She shrugged. "Never tried 'em," she answered in honesty. Hotel rooms weren't her thing to begin with, it was more like highways, hitchhiking, trucks and even the train stations. She had been such a loner until she met Logan, that she felt deprived of nice things in life to be honest.
Gambit became enthusiastic as soon as she said that, like a five year old who was sharing his favorite candy. He got one of the mini bottles of vodka and handed it to her, waiting for her review patiently. She opened the bottle and gulped the whole thing down, it was the size of a shot glass anyway. Not to mention, she had the liqueur durability of Logan. Even though the shot made her throat burn like hell, it would probably feel like water later on. And she really needed a drink.
He sat on the edge, drinking his mini scotch as she stared at him. "C'est incroyable," he licked his lips, she thought he probably meant something like great. His eyes were closed as a satisfying mumble came out of his lips, she watched him in awe. She realized she didn't do much justice regarding him just as a fine looking man, he was definitely more than that. His firm bone structure was rather exotic, he kind of looked like European with devilish eyes. Everything about him screamed dangerous charisma which the redhead downstairs would've definitely agreed on.
He was the type of a man that would convince you on doing wild things and you would probably end up thinking that was your own plan form the beginning anyway. To put it in another words, he would kidnap you and you would still check the man out –real definition of Stockholm Syndrome was Gambit the stranger from Harry's Bar.
"If it makes y' feel any better, chére," he said with a confident smirk, his hands crossed behind his head. "I've been checkin' y' out since las' night too."
How the fuck? Rogue wasn't sure if it was possible to blush down to her feet, but she was feeling red. Like sunburnt red. He had his eyes damn closed, how could he possibly know that she was checking him out? Like how?
Bullshit, he was bluffing and she took the bait.
She had to say something, she had to wipe his big ass grin out of his face. She opened her mouth as her arms were crossed in front of her chest, eyes narrowed at his smart comment. But she realized she was losing her sassiness, which didn't happen quite often and closed her mouth right away.
He was so annoying, yet somehow, she felt charmed by that.
His grin got bigger as she huffed in annoyance, rolling her eyes instead of saying something back. He got the courage he needed to pursue her into talking, so he decided to take his chance. "I wonder if y' would've said yes," he began, crimson eyes staring at her. "If I asked y' earlier t' come with me."
Looking at him in disbelief, she would probably smack his head to the window if her hand wasn't cuffed to the bed frame. She had literally begged him for more information when she learned about Essex, he had excluded her from his plan and his knowledge. He had even accused her of playing the hero. So, considering all these facts, she would probably had said yes –if he hadn't fucking attacked her in the beginning. "Ah think you're havin' a concussion," she said, shaking her head in mistrust, her free hand waving at him in the air accusingly. "Ah did ask to come, you told me to stay away from dangerous people," a snort came out of her lips. "Look where we are now."
Gambit nodded his head recklessly. "Oui, but that was before I knew 'bout y' powers."
"How come that changes anythin'?"
"It changes everythin'." He bent over towards her, still in a sitting position in his chair while his demeanor changing from playful to serious all of a sudden. Rogue noted, he was being serious whenever he was talking business. "Y' gift is one of a kind, p'tite," he said, looking into her eyes deeply. "I've seen great telepaths, I've met talented illusionists – all much experienced than y'. They couldn't even knew what y' knew with a simple touch."
Rogue looked away. "Ah told ya, it's not a gift."
"Mais, it is," he told her, his eyes shining with great interest. "It's your lack o' control that isn't," he noted. "Gambit knows what it feels like, trust me."
She tried to recall some memories of him to justify his words, yet didn't find any, so she shrugged and looked away again, instead. Her lack of control had always been the problem, not just now. She was used to it more than he could ever possibly know.
"Not t' mention y' steal powers."
He had a point. That was maybe the only thing about her mutation that she actually liked. But knocking people out in order to gain their powers was just as bad. She wished there was an easy way for her to just do that, without hurting people, without hurting her teammates. But it only got worse in time. She couldn't gain control and some people were willing to help her, especially in their danger room sessions. The more she touched them, the more she hated her mutation –because it all ended up the same, her friends lying in the infirmary and herself waiting for them to wake up at their bedside.
Oh, she didn't even begin to think of the annoying stares, either. Anytime something happened at their sessions, she would feel all these guilt and regret, but that wouldn't help anything. Everyone else would just stare and avoid touching her on the hallways as if she was the walking plague.
"What else did y' see," he began, still as interested as before. "In the memories?"
Rogue glanced up at him, feeling uneasy about talking of her powers. "Nothin' else."
"Can y' determine what y' take from people?"
She shifted uncomfortably, this whole situation was beginning to feel like a forced therapy session. "No," she said, actually considering his words. "Ah mean, Ah don't know."
Gambit was patiently studying her face, weighing her words carefully. He didn't understand why she got no help at all, but then again, he had not gotten get any help when he was dealing with his mutation, either. His lack of control also was frustrating, thus causing him to get the help he needed from the possibly worst person on the entire world –introducing Mr. Sinister.
His thoughts were back on her, as a frown appeared on his face. "Nobody tried t' help y'?" he asked, earning a negative headshake from her.
"No," she tried again. "That was unfair of me, people did try," she answered more honestly this time. Professor had tried, they even had private sessions together, but she couldn't show any improvement at all. Bobby had also tried, but his lack of technique caused more problems than necessary. And Logan had tried, but having dealt with lots of painful things, he had to leave the institute for his sake before they could actually achieve something. "But they all ended up failin'."
After a long moment examining her honesty, he gave her a sigh and leaned against his chair. "I forced y' to come," he began with a firm voice and she had thought him using the word forcing instead of kidnapping was admirable due to his deceitful nature. "Because y' can get some information that is crucially important for me."
"Ah'm listenin'," she said, appreciating his sudden change of heart and explaining things to her in honesty.
He offered her a small smile, happy to gain her attention back, although he was still serious. "Y' heard Creed talk 'bout Essex and some ring. Y' said y' knew why he wanted it," he said, giving her a nod.
She eyed him slowly and carefully. He could be faking being nice to her because he wanted some information or he could be nice because he wanted to negotiate. Either way, she had to be careful with this guy. He seemed much more experienced and cunning than she was, after all. "Ah do," she said with one eyebrow raised.
He looked like he was resisting to urge to grin at her stubbornness, but fixed his mimic right away. "I owe him somethin'," he decided to give her something, a point on honesty that she was quite impressed actually. "I have t' get this ring for him."
She blinked blankly. "You're gonna help this monster?"
"I don't think y' know what y' are talkin' 'bout, p'tite," he said, his voice going dark and cold. "If Essex wants somethin', he'll get it one way or 'nother. Been there done that. And y' wouldn't wanna cross him, trust me."
Rogue examined his words, biting her bottom lip. "Just because he's dangerous, doesn't mean you have to do stuff for him."
Giving her a cold humorless chuckle, he shook his head. "Chére, he doesn't just walk around and do job interviews with people, they come t' him willingly andbe in his debt. And he's excellent in locatin' people t' collect his favor."
She frowned, who the fuck was this person? Why was everybody so damn scared of him like that? She recalled the admiration of Sabretooth when he watched him doing some surgery. She remembered his blood red eyes and pale skin. Even Creed himself found this person eerie.
"Why do you owe him?"
Gambit cocked his head, an unease frown appeared on his face although he didn't let it slide easily. It was obvious that he didn't wish to talk about it and she actually wondered if he would. From what she saw from the memories, it involved some kind of surgery but that's all she knew about Essex anyway.
He grabbed his phone from his pocket, as if he got some text message and she didn't know if that actually happened or not. But he seemed to type somethings back and put the phone back. With a sigh, he straightened his posture and offered her a small smile. "Gambit doesn't want y' to be tied down t' the bed, chére," he said with a wider grin. "Unless y' offer that 'f course."
She rolled her eyes in return.
"Mais," he began, smile fading away. "There's a deadline and Gambit has one plan that might succeed and it involves y' helpin' him."
"And why would Ah do that, Cajun? You said it yourself, Ah'm not hero material."
He gave her a rich laugh, amused by her comment but his eyes looked mischievous. "Oh, p'tite, there's nothin' heroic 'bout the plan," he shook his head while shifting in a comfortable position. "We're gonna go thievin'."
She was in utter awe, after all the years of training to be the hero, she was offered to be on the other side now. She couldn't help but shake the feeling that Xavier would've been so disappointed by her, but she knew he would be disappointed now that after all the training she still had no control over her powers, anyway.
Rogue cleared her throat softly. "Again, why would Ah do that?" she asked recklessly, although she knew her answer was going to be negative since it was beyond her doing anyway. She had no… talent for it, her morals had been too high or she thought she owed it to the people she once loved. But then again, they belonged to a nice and warm memory that was placed on the back of her mind now. She was on discovery to explore herself, after all.
He stood up and walked towards the bed, his gaze never leaving hers. He leaned over to her from the edge of the bed and gave her a defined grin, his red on black eyes shining brightly and causing the other southerner to be too stunned to speak afterwards.
"Cause, chére, Gambit will teach y' how t' control y' powers."