CHAPTER 17

Slice and Dice

"Somet'in' on ya mind, Logan?" Gambit asked nonchalantly, cocking an eyebrow at the man who was baring his teeth and all but snarling at him. "Should really t'ink 'bout schedulin' dese li'l heart-t'-heart chats o' ours — ever so heartwarmin' an' pleasant as dey are — so we can address our issues nice an' proper like."

The only response he received was another menacing growl.

Rogue picked herself off the floor and stormed over to her brother's side. "What th' hell, Logan?! Jus' throw me aside like yesterday's leftovers, why don'cha?!"

"Stay outta this, Stripes!" Logan fumed, sparing a second to glare at her. "I'll deal with you later."

"You'll deal with me right now, chum." Rogue raised her hand to Logan's face, intent on using her power to subdue him, but he easily caught her wrist with his free hand.

"Don' even think about it, kid," he seethed, shoving her hand away. "You an' this dumb jackass have got a lot o' explainin' ta do."

Rogue folded her arms across her chest, steeling herself for a fight with her brother. She could feel licks of her own temper flaring up to match his, clamoring to be let loose. In an effort to let cooler heads prevail, Rogue tried to stay one step ahead of her anger. Inhaling a deep breath, she counted to five and then released the air little by little. In a calmer, more even tone, she asked, "What exactly needs ta be explained?"

"The past two years." His voice was cold and clipped. Each word fell like a massive bomb dropping in the otherwise quiet room.

From his pinned position against the wall, Remy scoffed. "Vague much, mon ami? Don' cost extra t' use more dan a thimble full o' words."

Logan leaned in slowly, deliberately, until he was mere inches from Gambit's face. He was so close that the Cajun could feel Logan's scowl searing into his flesh. Any other man would have soiled his pants the second he'd been caught between the razor-sharp claws. Remy, however, was unfazed.

"You gon' kiss me now, homme? Hope you brushed ya teeth at leas-"

His comment was swiftly cut off by Logan's left fist slamming into his solar plexus, effectively knocking the wind out of him. Gambit felt the edge of a claw bite into the side of his neck. He knew that any further movement to the left or right would either decapitate him or slice open a major artery, which would lead to rapid blood loss. Then there was the delightful prospect of Logan deciding to unsheathe the third claw and skewering him like a shish kebab for dinner. With no other options, Remy forced his body to remain upright, even though the sharp blow to his midsection had his muscles protesting in pain.

Shutting his eyes, he concentrated on coaxing air back into his lungs to normalize his breathing. He could hear Rogue yelling, demanding that Logan back off. He felt her attempts to physically remove her brother, but she was no match for the considerable weight of his adamantium-laced bones. Logan wasn't moving unless he wanted to move.

Through the din, Remy heard a calm, clear voice call out firmly, "Logan."

Deep in the darkest corners of his mind, Logan held on to the fear that he couldn't remember what her voice sounded like. He couldn't remember what their last conversation had been about. Hour after hour, day after day, all he wanted was to hear his name roll off her lips one more time. So when the actual sound reached his ears, he almost couldn't believe it. Not until he turned and saw her brilliant blue eyes gazing back at him.

Ororo.

Logan wasn't aware that he'd sheathed his claws and had released Gambit from his pinned position.

He wasn't aware that his feet had traveled the three short steps that had separated them.

He wasn't even aware of his own heart pounding madly in his chest.

All he was aware of were Ororo's eyes wide and clear, shining up at him. A hint of a playful smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. Logan had her wrapped tightly in his arms less than a second later.

"Just what in the hell is going on here?!" a loud voice boomed from the doorway.

The six occupants of the room turned and saw an ICU nurse in scrubs, with her hands on her hips and a stern scowl on her face.

"Uh-oh," Bobby whispered. "Busted."

- oOo -

"You didn' have ta drive me all th' way home, sugah," Rogue said, stepping into her apartment and removing the key from the lock. "Ah could've managed."

"Know you could have, chère." Remy hung his trench coat in the closet near the front door before continuing on to the kitchen. "Also know dat ya wiped from what you did f'r 'Ro back at de hospital, an' dat you prob'ly won' have anyt'in' but cereal t' eat f'r breakfast."

"That is not tru–" She broke off as Remy opened a cabinet door and pointed to the three cereal boxes inside. Rogue made a very unladylike hmphing noise as she settled onto one of the stools at the kitchen island. "Well, Ah haven't died yet, so Ah must be doin' somethin' right."

"'Course ya are, mignonne," Remy answered matter-of-factly, pulling out an omelet pan from a lower cabinet. From the refrigerator, he retrieved eggs, cheese, and milk. Then he removed the bacon and hash browns from the freezer.

She eyed him suspiciously as he expertly cracked two eggs into a mixing bowl. "Now that Ah think about it, Ah don' remember buyin' any o' this stuff on mah last grocery run."

He arched an eyebrow innocently. "Non? Really? Musta jus' slipped ya mind den." He grinned cheekily at her.

She reached across the island suddenly and took a firm hold of his chin, turning it to the right to get a better view of his neck. She tut-tutted when she saw the small nick that had been created by Logan's claws.

"Remy, Ah'm sorry 'bout Logan…" she began, releasing his chin and running a hand through her wild locks. She sighed heavily.

"You talkin' 'bout what happened earlier, chère?" Gambit asked, setting the omelet pan and another larger frying pan on the stove to heat up. "Or jus' a blanket apology f'r ya big brother's general existence an' sunny disposition?"

She chuckled. "Prob'ly th' second one."

"F'rget 'bout it." He flipped the omelet in the pan, cooked it for a few more moments, and then transferred it onto a plate. He slid it the short distance toward Rogue, who stopped it with her hand. Remy then turned his attention back to frying the bacon strips and hash brown. "Don' matter none anymore, petite. Cat's outta de bag now."

"Ah guess." She poked at her omelet with the fork Remy had handed her. A few minutes later, he filled the rest of her plate with several strips of bacon and a hash brown. "How do you think he found out about us, though? Ah thought Ah covered all mah bases when he an' Ah were talkin' in mah head."

Remy rested his palms on the countertop, shrugging his shoulders. "Who knows? Ya brother's pretty crafty when he wants t' be." He felt his cell phone vibrate in his pants pocket. Pulling it out, he read the message that had been sent by one of his underground contacts. He had information on Victor Creed's current operation and expansion plans that he thought Gambit would be interested in.

Pocketing the device, Remy stated woefully, "Duty calls, mon amour." He gestured to her mostly untouched breakfast plate. "Eat up, you. I'll check on you later. Make sure ya not starvin' yaself t' death." He leaned down to brush a gentle kiss on her lips. "At least try to not be so stubborn today, d'accord?"

She smiled up at him. "Okay, Ah'll try."

- oOo -

Several hours later, Gambit pushed open the main entrance to the bar. The usually bustling establishment was eerily quiet. It was still fairly early in the afternoon for any of the staff to be reporting for work, so Remy was somewhat surprised to see Logan's lone figure perched on a barstool, nursing a beer bottle.

"T'ought you'd still be at de hospital wit' 'Ro," Remy called out as he weaved his way past the empty tables and chairs. "Left you a message. Source o' mine got wind o' what Creed's been up to. Looks like he's gotten into bed wit' some shady suppliers from Central America, an' dey ain't de nice kind o' - "

Remy smoothly dodged the bottle that had no doubt been aimed at his head. He stopped a few paces behind Logan, and smirked. "Still a li'l piqued 'bout ev'ryt'in', eh, homme?"

"She's my kid sister, Gumbo," Logan bit out, his back to the younger man. "If that doesn't scream 'off limits,' I don't know what else does. Go chase after every other damn skirt in the universe, but not her." He slammed his fist down on the countertop, rattling the glassware stored underneath.

"It ain't like dat, mon ami. Rogue ain't jus' some other skirt I'm chasin'. I lov- "

Logan grabbed a wooden chair and blindly hurled it behind him. Again, Gambit was able to sidestep it with no problem. He was also prepared to block the straight jab to his chest, which Logan immediately followed up with.

"If you say that you love her, I'm gonna have to kill you where you stand." Logan dropped to his haunches and swung his left leg out wide, knocking Gambit clean off his feet. Pinning him to the floor, Logan landed three solid punches to the Cajun's torso before the younger man got a hold of a wayward glass, charged it, and smashed it into the back of Logan's head. The explosion and blood was not pretty, but Remy knew that Wolverine's healing factor would easily patch up any damage he inflicted.

Too bad de same can't be said f'r me, Remy thought as he skillfully danced out of Logan's slicing range for the second time. He flung one chair after another into the Canadian's path, but the other man refused to back down. Finally, Gambit grabbed a hold of a wide, round table and charged it. Twisting his body for more momentum, he released the wooden sphere like an oversized frisbee. The impact and subsequent explosion slammed Logan into the large fighting cage in the center of the floor, warping its outer frame.

"Now, mon ami," Remy tried to reason once again, walking toward him but still staying cautiously out of reach. "I get dat Rogue is ya family, an' I got not'in' but respect f'r dat. Not gonna mess wit' dat in any way. Sorry if'n you don' want t' hear it, but yes, I do love ya sister. I'm in love wit' her. She ain't like de others, an' I ain't jus' chasin' a skirt wit' her."

Remy held up his hands in a gesture of respite. "We've been around each other f'r a lot o' years, homme. You know me. Have you ever seen me do two years o' anyt'in'?"

Logan leveled his eyes on Gambit, as if seeing him for the first time and needing to reevaluate him thoroughly. His brow furrowed as if in anger again, and Remy readied himself for another possible attack.

But after several drawn-out minutes, Logan groaned thickly and finally mumbled, "As much as I'd like to beat you inta the dirt, Cajun, Stripes is twenty-one already. She's an adult an' makes her own decisions, no matter how stupid they seem to be."

Logan pushed against the bent metal frame of the fighting cage to leverage himself up into a standing position. Jabbing his finger forcibly into the younger man's chest, he threatened, "But I swear ta Heaven, Gumbo, if you hurt her — if you do anything to break her heart or make her cry — there won't be a corner on the planet where you could hide from me."

Remy grinned and slapped his friend jovially on the shoulder. "'Course not, homme. I'd find a way t' go off-planet by den." He fully expected Logan to retaliate to his snarky remark, so he allowed the older man to bodily shove him into a nearby wall, cracking the surface visibly. "Dat make you feel better?" Remy spat out bits of debris from his mouth.

"Shut up, Cajun." Logan surveyed the room and whistled. "'Ro's gonna be pissed when she sees all this."

"Only at you, mon ami." Gambit located a table that was still intact and set it back to its upright position. He snaked behind the bar and snatched a couple of beers while Logan pulled up a pair of unbroken chairs for them. "Hopefully, Stormy won't be mad at me none."

"Shut up, Cajun," Logan repeated, accepting the bottle that was offered to him. Settling into one of the chairs, he groused, "C'mon, I wanna get back to the hospital as soon as I can. Only left 'cause 'Ro made me leave while they run a bunch of diagnostic tests on her. Get on with it already, an' tell me what you found out about Creed an' all the shit he's been into."

- oOo -

Twenty minutes later, Jimmy walked into the bar, mentally running through the list of things that needed to be done before they opened that evening. He stopped short when he entered the main floor. The majority of the tables and chairs were either broken into several pieces or laid toppled on their sides. The wide mirrored wall behind the bar was all but shattered, as was the collection of liquor bottles that once lined the shelves below it. There was a large crack in the far-off wall, and the metal fighting cage in the center of the floor had a massive dent in it.

In the midst of the destruction, Jimmy's eyes fell to the only table in the room, where two figures were calmly sitting across from one another. They were drinking beer and talking shop, seemingly oblivious to the damage around them.

"What the hell have you two been doing in here?!" Jimmy demanded incredulously.

Without intending to, both Logan and Remy simultaneously looked up and answered, "Redecoratin'."