=Part Two=
Remy LeBeau was getting restless. Dressed casually in ripped
jeans, a long sleeved henley, and his ever present overcoat,
he was standing in the mansion's lavish foyer, impatiently
shuffling the deck of cards that never left his side. He looked
around the room. It was darkened because of the late hour,
but that did not bother him. Heighten night vision was one
of his mutant powers.
He'd been in this room hundreds, if not thousands of times,
but he was always just passing through. This was the longest
extended period he had ever spenthere. Wolverine had told
him to be ready in half an hour. That was at 11:00pm. It was
already pushing midnight. Normally he was the one who kept
people waiting. This turn-about was not to his liking.
He looked around the room. Everything here reminded him of
Rogue. The Cajun's mind began to wander, and his feet went
with it.
Face it LeBeau, evert'ing in da whole place remind you
of her. Mebbe Logan's right. I need ta get away from dis place.
Far away for awhile. T'ink t'ings out f' myself.
He was beginning to get bitter again, that was happening
more and more when he thought about her. It was childish.
He knew it, but didn't care.
I know, I'll go to Caldecott County. Dat be de only place
in de worl' a body can t'ink - non?
He was surprised at how angry the thought sounded to him
He was beginning to worry himself. He'd never been so obsessed
with a woman before. He was wandering aimlessly now, flipping
cards from hand to hand.
'Course you ain't never been left by no femme before either.
Well, dat ain't x-ctlly true is it LeBe...
The thought died as he registered where he was.
He swore to himself as he looked quickly up and down the
hall. Fortunately, he was alone.
T'ank God f' small favors. His cheeks burned red in
the darkness as he stood there and contemplated the door to
Rogue's room.
He threw another quick glance up and down the darkened corridor
to ensure himself there were no prying eyes. He tried the
door. It was locked.
Gambit smiled and pulled his tools out. He selected one,
and removed it from the worn leather case that was its home.
He looked and the metal object, then at the door, and then
back at the metal object.
What de hell you gonna do in dere LeBeau?
Unsure of the answer, he began to back away from the door,
as if it held some great danger. He was beginning to sweat
now, and he licked his lips nervously. He slid the lockpick
back home.
Gotta t'ink. What ya gonna do in dere boy? Why ya' wanna
even GO dere? De only t'ing in dat room fer you is pain. Ya
don' like pain do ya' LeBeau?
He was sitting now, with his back to the wall, unsure of
himself. He knew that if he was caught he'd be hard pressed
to explain his actions. He took a quick inventory: Jean
be wit Cyclops at de boathouse b'now. Psylock and Warren are
outta town. Haven't seen Stormy fer a while, but she's prob'ly
in de attic. Don' b'lieve dere are any guests who'd be down
dis corridor. Dat leaves Bishop.
Since Bishop had made it his 'duty' to know everything he
could about Remy, Remy had decided it would be prudent to
return the favor. He had followed Bishop on his nightly rounds
for six weeks, long enough so he knew all of the big man's
routines, even though Bishop changed them frequently.
He looked at his watch. 12:05. He won't patrol dis hall
fer another 20 minutes or so.
With that he stood up and smiled. Shaking his head, he went
back to Rogue's door and once again selected a tool. His heart
was racing as he inserted the pick into the lock. His hand
was shaking so badly he put a slight scratch on the lock.
"Steady homme, steady." He said quietly to himself.
"Quarter of a million dollars f'dese tools, and what
do ya use 'em fo'?" He felt the tumblers click, and quickly
slipped into the room, just in case he was wrong about Bishop
or Storm.
He stood with his back to the door, breathing hard. Something
was wrong with him. Usually, he enjoyed any act of thievery.
No matter how small, he was always elated whenever the job
was successfully accomplished. Right now, he was slightly
sick to his stomach. He didn't even want to consider the shaking
hands.
Pr'bly jes Wolverine's snack comin' back to haunt me,
he thought with a nervous chuckle. He surveyed the room, taking
in everything while his heartbeat returned to normal. Everything,
that is, except the figure hovering in the shadows outside
the window.
The room looked the same as the last time he was there He
couldn't even remember when that was now. The faint smell
of magnolia lingered.
There were stuffed animals all over the room. Dogs, cats,
bears. Even an armadillo. "I t'ink dat's what dis is."
He moved over to the bed to take a closer look, then sat down.
His weight on the bed caused a teddy bear to fall onto his
lap.
"She didn't take you neither eh'?" He said to the
bear as he gently put it back in it's place. His hand had
stopped shaking. That was good. The bear fell over again,
this time landing on its back, its eyes staring at the Cajun.
Gambit looked at the bear and shook his head and blinked his
eyes. The way I the bear was laying, it almost looked like
it was accusing him...
"MERDE!" Gambit slapped at the bear. It smacked
silently against the wall. "Ain't my fault," he
hissed. "She'd found a reason t'split sooner or later."
The bear just looked at him from the floor and didn't answer.
Shaken just a little more than he was, he got up and walked
over to the closet. Unsure of what he was looking for or why
he was there he opened it. It was neatly organized, and he
absently moved the clothes back and forth, as if he were looking
for something to wear. Too preoccupied, he didn't hear, or
sense the window open, and the figure that was floating outside
enter.
"Remy are you alright my friend?"
Gambit looked up and blinked. He didn't even hear Storm enter
the room. Was he that far gone? Not letting onto his surprise,
LeBeau turned. She was hovering in the middle of the room.
The flowing white gown against her dark skin gave her a mysterious,
regal appearance.
"I don't know Stormy".
He returned to his examination of the closet. Keep up
de look boy, don' let her see ya sweat.
"What you doin' here?" He asked. He tried to make
is sound casual, like he was workin' on his bike and she stopped
by to see him. It came out choked, and sounded like he had
been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, which he had.
Storm landed next to Gambit. Her concern for his recent condition
caused her to ignore his favorite nickname for her. She placed
her hands on his shoulders, and firmly turned him away from
the closet. He was surprised, not by her strength, but his
lack of desire to resist her. She took his chin in her hands
and looked deeply into his eyes. Her hands were cool and dry
to the touch. His eyes. . . She searched his eyes with deep
concern, and what she saw caused her to smile sadly. After
what seemed like an eternity to the Cajun, she released his
chin and responded.
"I could ask you the same thing," she chided with
a gentle smile. He started to respond, but she continued.
"I saw you and Logan earlier on the roof, and wanted
to speak with you before you left." Gambit started at
this.
"You were dere?" That meant that at least twice
tonight she had gotten the drop on him. Add Wolverine and
the late raccoon... it hadn't been a good night for the mutant
thief. He had a feeling it was going to get worse.
"So how come you here? I been waitin' in the foyer for
de last fo'ty five minutes for Logan." He slapped his
head. "Shit! I forgot 'bout him. I hope he ain't ready
yet." Gambit began to make his way to Rogue's door.
"You'll not escape that easily Remy LeBeau." He
stopped and looked at her, afraid of what she'd say next.
"I'll walk with you, we can talk on the way."
He sighed in semi-relief. "Ok Stormy, but I gotta get
movin'." As he opened the door, Storm's hand landed on
his. "Did you forget something?" she asked.
"Don't t'ink so" he rejoined, although the mere
fact she asked the question indicated he had.
She pointed to the bear lying in the corner. "I don't
believe Rogue left him down there. Do you?" Gambit smiled
sheepishly. He had forgotten his earlier 'fracas'.
"He was givin' me de evil eye Stormy," he said
quietly. Gambit knew how lame that sounded, but Storm merely
looked at him.
"Evil eye or not, you need to put him back on the bed.
AND smooth the cover where you were sitting."
Gambit looked at her. "How'd you know..." He stopped
and looked at the bed. It was obvious he'd been there. "Not
bein' too good a t'ief t'night. Non?" He went over and
began to smooth it over. After a moment, Storm took pity on
him and helped him return the bed to its previous state.
"T'anks Stormy. Guess housekeeping ain't my strong suit."
He flipped a card out our his sleeve and charged it to illustrate
his point. Storm glared at him, and he extinguished it quickly,
wishing he hadn't tried to be so glib. They both gave the
room a once over. Satisfied it was back to normal, they shut
and locked the door.
They began to walk to the stairs, Gambit looking straight
ahead, aware that Storm's eyes never left him. "What
were you doing in Rogue's room?"
Remy kept walking, hoping she would give up and go away.
He knew better. He had made it back into the foyer before
Storm grabbed his arm and spun him toward her. "Do I
have to repeat the question? Again?"
Gambit gave a large sigh, and looked around. Wolverine still
hadn't shown up. He glanced at the grandfathers clock, it
was about to strike the half hour. He was suddenly very tired,
and slumped to the floor by the foot of the stairs. He stared
at his feet.
Ororo was growing impatient. She had been up almost twenty
four hours, and although she still looked fresh, was very
tired as well. She was about to press Gambit for an answer
when he spoke.
"Dunno f'sure chere." It was barely audible. "I
was waitin' for Wolverine in de foyer like I said, den de
next t'ing I know, I'm outside a' Rogue's door." He stopped
here for a moment and looked up at Storm. The pain in his
expression was almost unbearable for her.
"I jes wanted ta take a look around Stormy. Wasn't gonna
take nuthin'. I jest..." He stopped and looked away.
Storm averted her eyes and remained quite, letting him regain
his composure. After a minute or two he turned back toward
her, but not looking at her face.
"Ain't never felt dis way befo' chere. Can't sleep.
Can't eat. Can't fight. Least not wit de team anyway. De only
t'ing I can do lately is get drunk and t'ink 'bout Rogue."
He stopped again, then started a moment later, as if he'd
figured he spilled this much, he might as well come clean.
"I miss her Stormy. I got to 'splain t'ings to her.
I got ta tell her how much I..." here went went silent
again, before adding, "but I can't, and its messing me
up somet'ing good."
He looked at Storm, and it appeared to her like he was pleading
with his eyes. This time she was the one who had to turn her
back on him and regain her composure.
He watched for a moment as Storm's shoulders moved gently
up and down. He walked up behind her, and turned her toward
him. Without looking, Storm wrapped her arms around the Cajun,
buried her head in his shoulder, her tears dampening his overcoat.
"Hey chere, why you cryin'? T'ings ain't dat bad neh?"
"I hurts me deeply to see you like this Remy."
She smiled as he wiped a tear away from her cheek. It reminded
her of the time they spent together when she was a child.
He would often comfort her this way, like a father would his
daughter. It felt good to be in his arms again, almost like...
"Don' make me feel real good either, but what c'n I
do 'bout it?" His tone, which had been calm and soothing
moments before, began to turn brittle as he spoke. "Can't
talk to the girl cause she ain't here. She looks into ma'head,
sees part of de show, and decides ta walk out before d'movie
ends."
He let go of Storm and began to pace, pulling the cards out
of his pocket, he began to shuffle them again. Before Storm
could say anything, Wolverine stalked into the room, looking
more human than he had in weeks. He not only showered, but
his hair was combed, almost styled, and it looked like he
even attempted to shave. All evidence of his earlier 'snack'
was gone. He could smell the tension in the room. When he
saw the Cajun nervously shuffling his cards the hair stood
at the back of his neck.
Better get this show on the road, he thought, while
there still is one.
"Took me a little longer than I thought it would."
Gambit shrugged, knowing that was as close to an apology
he'd get. Logan nodded to Storm.
"I see. And where are you two off to?" asked Ororo.
She was trying to sound cheerful, but not sure if she pulled
it off. "Remy said you were going on a trip, but neither
of you are in uniform?"
Gambit had been watching Storm, wondering if she was going
to mention the evening's encounter to Logan. When it became
clear she didn't plan to, he slowly put his cards away.
"Ain't that kind of trip 'ro darlin'" was the only
answer the Canadian supplied. He relaxed a bit, now that the
Cajun's deck was conceled.
Got a feeling this is gonna be one hell of a trip.
"C'mon Gumbo, we're late. We got a flight to catch."
"We not gonna take de blackbird?"
"Nope. Squint says we gotta fly commercial. At least
Chuck's springing fer the tickets" Logan concluded with
a chuckle.
"Tickets to where?"
"Can't tell ya Storm. Boy's night out. C'mon Gumbo,
I'm drivin'."
"O.K. Logan, but hang on a sec'." Gambit turned
toward the hall closet.
"Where ya goin' - we gotta a plane ta catch."
"I know, Gambit jes gonna get de phonebook so you can
see over da steering wheel."
The broad smile on LeBeau's face got bigger when he heard
the low growl from Wolverine, and the quite laugh of Storm.
For her part, she was not so sure why the sudden change in
Gambit's mood. Hopefully the prospect of getting away was
lifting his spirits. Deciding that was what she wanted to
believe, Storm walked over to Remy and gave him an encouraging
hug.
"It's good to see you smiling my friend," Ororo
said. "It's been a long time."
"Oui. Gambit starting to feel a little better 'bout
'tings." He looked at Wolverine, "you ready homme?"
Logan nodded curtly and stalked off to the garage. He held
his own smile in check until his back was turned on his fellow
X-men. This might be fun after all, and he couldn't remember
the last time he had any fun.
As Gambit turned to leave, Storm caught him by the arm. He
turned, and she looked long and hard into his eyes. He read
the question she didn't ask...
"Don' worry, Stormy, I'm gonna be alright. It jes gonna
take some time. Dis little talk we had tonight help...some
anyway."
Ororo smiled. "I am truly glad to hear you say that.
I'm sure that Rogue will turn up before too long, and then
you can tell her how the movie ends."
"Don' know 'bout dat chere." He managed another
smile. "But you know what? Gambit can't worry bout Rogue
if she ain't gonna worry 'bout him, right Stormy?" He
was standing proudly now. To Storm, it looked as if he were
trying to recover a little of the dignity he felt he lost
earlier.
She just nodded her head, albeit a little sadly, recognizing
not only the lie, but how dangerously close to the truth that
lie was. Rogue had better return soon. For everyone's sake.
Out in the garage a horn sounded. "Wolverine gettin'
impatient. I gotta go, chere." He turned to leave.
"Gambit..."
He stopped. Damn, almost made it. "Yeah Storm?"
"She will return... you know that don't you?" He
gave her an enigmatic smile, then turned back toward the garage.
"I really gotta go now. Don' wait up Stormy"
With that he was gone. Ororo just look toward the garage
for a long time. She sighed.
"Be well my friend" she said softly. "And
be careful. Trouble follows you like a lost puppy."
Continued in Chapter
3
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