Disclaimer: Marvel owns all of this.

I've wanted to write a Rogue and Belle team-up for a while. I always liked their little bonding moment in Ghost Rider. Hopefully you will enjoy this perhaps random story of female frenemyship and guild politics.

This is as canon compliant as I can make it. X-Men Unlimited Infinity 130 comes out next week and will knock this out of sync, but I am excited for more bearded Gambit, so I don't care.

Next chapter (maybe two chapters?) should be out around the same time. They are already drafted.


The Queen of Thieves and the Queen of Assassins

Chapter 1

"Hey, boys. Mama's home," Rogue called as she stepped into the foyer of the New York penthouse that she shared with her husband. She dropped her duffel bag on the floor and kicked off her boots with a sigh.

Every part of her body hurt, an ache that went deep down to the marrow of her bones. She hadn't expected to survive her last mission. Stevil had set a nuclear bomb to detonate at Empire State University in the name of the Mutant Liberation Front. She'd been the only one who could get it away from the campus in time, and have a prayer of surviving it, even though she knew - knew - even her invulnerability wouldn't be enough.

She'd hesitated, guilty and terrified. Krakoa had fallen, and death was no longer a brief and quiet interval before hatching out of an egg. She'd known how she had felt when she had thought Gambit had died in Otherworld; did she have the right to do that to him? To break her vow that she would always return to him? Why did she always have to choose the rest of the world over him? Hadn't they earned the right to be selfish?

"Rogue, I'm sorry. It has to be you, and it has to be now," Captain America had repeated.

"On my way," she had always known what she would choose, "If I don't make it, tell Remy I love him and I'm sorry."

Her mind blank and white as nuclear winter, her body all adrenalin, she had hugged the bomb as she flew to Area 51. She had thrown it as far away from her as she could, and had closed her eyes and waited for the blast to consume her, when she felt a hand clasp firmly around hers. Her first thought was that, somehow, impossibly, Gambit had found her.

As the nuclear wave hit and her gloves burned away, she felt the shock of a mind connecting with hers. Deadpool. Wade. She couldn't put together the chaotic, splintered, kaleidoscopic jumble of impressions that made up his mind. Kittens and unicorns and guacamole and murder and hair metal and the meaning of the whole universe and herself in a distressingly sexy and shredded wedding dress…. She gave up and let herself go with the flow, destroyed by his thoughts and by the atomic energy that coursed over her.

For what felt like centuries, Wade's healing factor kept her alive through the inferno, replacing skin, muscle and fat as the fire burned it away. She could still smell her flesh becoming ash; hear the fat popping; feel the searing, annealing pain. Physically, she had come through okay, but mentally….

She needed her husband. She needed his uncanny ability to make her feel safe and loved and reassured; to lie next to her and listen to her and then say the perfect thing; or simply to nail her against the bed, the sofa, the wall, the kitchen counter until she wasn't capable of thinking. She had seen the anonymous joke on Pixie's Discord that Gambit's real secondary mutation was to deal with his wife when she was in a bad mood, and, although she had gotten herself banned over her response to it, she thought sometimes that it might be true.

Gambit was on a mission with Madelyne Pryor, though, and seemed to be the only moral compass they had left. When she had seen him on the rooftop the other night, he had looked exhausted, his usual stubble gone to a scruffy beard, dark rings making his incredible eyes seem even blacker than usual. If she had asked him, he would have come home in a heartbeat, but she couldn't. Wouldn't. Not for her sake.

She couldn't have her home and harbor, and so she'd settled for her home.

"Boys?" she called again, looking around for the cats. They normally swarmed her or Gambit as soon as they entered the door. Something was wrong.

She wrinkled her nose. The room smelled of roses with a hint of smoke that made her stomach roil. Another woman's perfume? Had Gambit been bringing another woman to their home?She pushed the thought out of her mind. When she had married him, she had made the choice to trust him, and he had always proven himself worthy of it.

That left the other option: an ambush. Her least favorite part of the superhero life. Her first date with Remy had been derailed by an ambush. Their first party as newlyweds too. And their honeymoon, if you counted Kitty's unexpected call. It was a good day when she and Gambit made it to their destination.

"You going to stand there forever, chere?" a voice said from the living room, Cajun accent warm and smooth. It wasn't the voice she wanted to hear. It was a woman's voice, one that had whispered in her head for several weeks in the past.

"In a week, Remy, I be your wife and we get to spend our lives together."

She was in a teenage girl's bedroom, lounging against a pile of frilly broderie anglaise pillows in a four-poster bed. A lacy white canopy hung around her on all sides like a wedding veil, filtering light from the brass lamps beside her and casting shadows on her skin. Her body - no, Belladonna Boudreaux's body - felt hot and sticky from sex and sweat and the summer New Orleans air.

Opposite her a younger version of her husband, sprawled in bed, naked except for a lilac sheet that covered the lower part of his body. Remy's chest, fuzzed with hair, was leaner and had no scars; the silvery slash across his heart, which she had traced with her fingertips so many times, was missing. He looked younger and more carefree, though the same wicked smirk that she had kissed away so often was on his lips. His pillow-tousled mop of hair fell across his forehead, and his red-on-black eyes met hers with a mix of amusement and adoration. Yes, Remy loved Belle, had loved her well and long, and not only that night.

"How that any different to what we got now, Belle?" he responded with a low laugh, "It ain't like we waiting for the wedding."

"Well, you won't have to sneak into my boudoir every evening, for one," she placed her hand on his bare chest, feeling the almost feverish warmth of his skin, "Or jump out the window when Papa comes knocking on my door to say goodnight."

"But that half the fun."

"You sure? I thought this was the fun," she pushed him down with a hand, and climbed on top of him again, and…

"Goddamnit," Rogue said to herself, the memory, the other woman, and then stepped into the living room, "What are you doing here, Belle?"

"Finally. If I wanted to kill you, I'da done it several times over already."

Belladonna was sitting on the leather sofa, a glass of red wine in her hand. To Rogue's annoyance, one of the expensive bottles of cabernet sauvignon that Emma had given them as a wedding gift was uncorked on the table in front of her. The assassin was dressed impeccably in a black Chanel suit, cut low to reveal her cleavage. Diamonds flashed at her throat and ears, and her blonde curls were piled up on top of her head. Figaro sat on her lap, purring loudly. Pettily, Rogue was pleased to see strands of white fur on Belle's pants.

"You were always the worst one," Rogue said to the cat, and then looked at the woman, "Belle, I've had a day. Can we skip over the part where you call me a whore and I have to kick your ass, so I can have a shower and a beer? Maybe at the same time?"

"Pute, I'm here on Guild business. Take a seat and let's talk."

"Always got to get one in," Rogue muttered, folding her arms across her chest and continuing to stand. She wasn't going to let the other woman tell her what to do in her own home, "You had a wasted trip. Remy won't be back for a few days."

"Which is why I'm talking to you," Belle replied with an eyeroll that she somehow made elegant, "You still don't get what marrying him means. You get all of him. The champagne and romance, the mind-blowing sex, but also the Guilds. You the Queen of Thieves, Madame LeBeau." Her mouth twisted at the last two words, as if they had a sour taste.

"Belle, I'm too tired for Guild bullshit. Just tell me who I have to punch and I'll punch them."

Belle laughed, "Good girl. I don't think you'll mind this one. Candra's causing trouble again."

"Candra? What's she doing now? And is she still a creepy little kid?" Rogue shuddered. The child form of Candra had been unsettling; ancient, immortal evil looking out from behind the eyes of a middle schooler.

"Nah, she fixed that for herself. She also brewed up a new elixir that makes people fast and strong. Like the super soldier serum your new boss was given in the war. She handing it out to any thief or assassin who swears loyalty to her."

"So, new day, same old Candra. I wish she'd find a new gig," she sighed, "I could call the team in on this one. Cap won't want supersoldier assassins running around New Orleans. But I'm guessing we need to handle this personally."

"Oui, anything else'd be seen as weakness. We need to shut this down fast and hard."

"That, I can do," Rogue stretched out her hands, cracking her knuckles. Her memory, treacherous as Figaro, flashed a sudden image of her hand entwined with Wade's, flesh falling away into ash, bone blackened. She shuddered, focused on the simple wedding band that Bling had made for her. Light, cool and icy, flashed off the diamonds, and she was back in the present again.

"Oui, you be the brawn, and I be the brains and beauty, and we'll get this done."

"I can think of another b-word for you," she snapped, temper flaring. It had been a very long night, and Belle always found a way to get under her skin.

"You kiss my husband with that mouth?" Belle raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow and stood. Figaro leapt gracefully to the ground, and began grooming his back leg, "Mais, bon. I'll meet you in New Orleans in three days. Give my men time to do some recon," she paused, "Oh, and chere, be a little more discreet on the way down. Marcus said he spotted you a mile off heading towards Remy's apartment."

Rogue clenched her fists, nails digging into the skin of her palm. She would not give Belle the satisfaction of losing her cool again, "Somehow, I didn't think hanging out at home with our kitties required top opsec."

"But our lives do," Belle sounded amused, "Welcome to the guilds, pute."

"Hope you don't survive the experience? I'm hard to kill, Belle. You should know. You've tried enough times."

"For the sake of the thieves and assassins, let's hope so. This ain't going to be easy."


Author Notes:

1. Rogue, Deadpool and the atom bomb are Uncanny Avengers (2023) #5. Xavier dies after reading Deadpool's mind in Deadpool Kills the Marvel Universe, so I wanted to honor that moment, and also David Nakayama's illustration of Deadpool's brain.

2. Gambit's mission with the Goblin Queen and company is Dark X-Men, and is one of the few good depictions of Gambit we got recently.

3. The ambushes are X-Men (1991) #4, Mr and Mrs X #1 and #6.

4. Candra and her pacts with the guilds are in the Gambit (1993) mini-series and the Gambit (1999) series, and Candra as a creepy child and her betrayal of Belle is Mr and Mrs X #11-12.