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After Gambit's Return

Stories by K-Nice

"And the Walls Came a'Tumblin' Down"
Remy catches Rogue in the midst of one of her more self-pitying moods and invites her along on one of his late-night partying jaunts to New York City.
"Get Some"
Rogue and Gambit play Bonnie and Clyde.
(Some sexual innuendo)
"So Fast"
Rogue and Gambit experience the pain, disorientation and fear of a major life-changing event.
17 years after the events in "...Walls...," Rogue and Gambit, now happily married and with children, reconsider what their happiness really means.
"Pro Veneratio"
Rogue and Gambit mourn the loss of someone dear.

"And Then I Remembered..."
Belladonna returns to Salem Center to make her peace with Gambit.

"Blood and Bone"
NYPD detectives Remy LeBeau and Ororo Munroe investigate a horrific string of rape/murders that hit closer to home than any of them realizes.

"Crown of Roses, Crown of Thorns"
After being stripped of their powers by the High Evolutionary, Rogue and Gambit meet at a bar and rehash old arguments and scars.

"Divine Retribution"
When Storm learns of Rogue's abandonment of Gambit, she avenges her friend's death in an unconventional way.

"Falling in Love: Once More, for Old Heart's Sake"
After reconciling during the Phalanx battles in space, Rogue and Gambit go for one last motorcycle ride together. Assume OZT and the Trial of Gambit never happened.

Excerpts of some of Rogue and Gambit's arguments come to light in this answer to Em's 350-word challenge.

"The Human Touch"
A young "Reb" recovers from a beating delivered by her mother.

"I Get So Lonely"
Rogue traces back her history with touch as an addiction and her self-imposed loneliness.

"Lost Lies"
When Gambit returns to the X-Men, he must wade through the lies and half-truths he and his teammates still tell each other.

"Maybe on Some Other Day"
Emily Darkholme and Remington LeBeau are betrothed to each other by their parents.

"Possibly in Another Life"
Six years after "Maybe on Some Other Day," Emily eagerly anticipates an upcoming ball -- and her first chance in years to see Remy LeBeau again.

"Perhaps, in Some Other Time"
The Rogue and the Gambit, leaders of the Brotherhood and the Guild, respectively, face off for what will likely be their final battle. Sequel to "Possibly in Another Life."

"Perfect Pastel Pink"
Rogue decides to indulge herself in something she never had as a teenager -- a prom dress.

Rogue tries to see only what she wants to see when she goes back for Remy.

"She Has Issues"
After their latest breakup, a drunken Gambit tries to call Rogue and let her know what's on his mind.

Rogue accompanies Mystique on a stealth mission. Written for Em's 350-word challenge.

"Taking Prisoners"
Gambit and the Sisterhood of Evil Mutants take on the mysterious Center to save mutantkind. (Unfinished.)

elsewhere in Alykat's World:

"Beauty Comes to Those Who Wait"
After decades of marriage, Bobby and Cecilia still go to Brooklyn regularly to have Cece's braids redone.
(at (un)frozen)

"Broken Promises"
Iceman deals with his feelings of guilt and loss after his father's death.
(at (un)frozen)

"Cold Front"
When the young students of the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters enjoy the hot summer sun, Bobby longs to return to the cold. Takes place during the X-Men's early years.
(at (un)frozen)

"Spring Thaw"
Bobby decides to leave the X-Men permenantly and get a "real" life, while Gambit struggles to feel alive again after being rescued from the Antarctic. (in progress)
(at (un)frozen)

"Stolen Identities"
When Bastion came to the X-Mansion, he took everything. Now that the X-Men have returned home, each of them deals with that loss in their own way.
(at (un)frozen)


Website: Center Stage

Disclaimer: Gambit, et al belong to Marvel. Story belongs to me. I'm not making any profit from this, but neither are they.
For Falstaff's first line thingy. Thank you Edana for Beta Reading.

So this is Hell. The walls need paint.

Bastion literally stripped paint and wallpaper right off the walls -- down to the bare, naked wood. The pink skinned freak even got the wall paper glue up. Now, I know from experience, that takes a lot of patience and effort -- and a extra large serving of dementia.

I'm sitting on the denuded floor, my legs knotted in some pseudo-yoga position. I don't put much stock in all that "Um" but it sure is great for working out the kinks. I never knew pacing all night, every night would put such a cramp in my leg muscles. Even though it seems like I'm just sitting casually, I'm really trying to stretch out my quads.

I don't look at my companion and she doesn't look at me. We're, to all appearances, absorbed in the indoor picnic we are having for breakfast.

I snuck from the boat house to the mansion for coffee at about six this morning. It's bare too, the mansion, but the team has gotten it semi-restocked. I've holed up in worse places (i.e. the boat house), so to me, it's not that bad. The boat house has been left to its own devices, and since the floor boards aren't likely to do any grocery shopping any time soon, I slunk across the lawn in the departing, dewy shadows to score some hot java. Reyes knows from coffee and I'd like to avail myself of her expertise before everyone wakes up and wants to make nice. I'm really not in the mood and I don't think I ever will be.

So, of course, she was there, fresh tears drying up as soon as she realized it was me. She pushed her limp, white and brown hair out of her face with one exquisite bare hand. We managed to make fairly pleasant conversation as long as we didn't say anything important and I got to enjoy my cup of coffee.

Things were going so well that I was beginning to contemplate toast or cereal when Storm walked in. If Rogue looked like a day-old rose -- still beautiful but somewhat worse for wear -- 'Ro was an eternal bloom -- fresh in any season. Since we were running out of inanities to toy with, Rogue withdrew and 'Ro stepped up to the plate.

I didn't know what to say, how to make it all okay. So I said little. "Yes I slept well." (Lie) "Yes I'm hungry." (True)

We decided to do breakfast in the boat house, so we could talk-without confront our teammates. I had just survived "talking" with Rogue, so I was willing to give it a go. She made toast and eggs and bacon and fruit and juice, which was as extensive as the options get these days. I gathered up the glasses, plates, utensils and a table cloth. We split the chore of carrying the meal over, though 'Ro kept her share aloft without lifting a finger. We fussed a bit about setting things up and then promptly dug in.

In the mutual silence, I contrast "talking" with Storm to "talking" with Rogue. Rogue seemed happy to forgive, forget or ignore the whole thing. Because I love her, I know how stubbornly optimistic she can be. She works harder at being naive than she does at anything else.

So we basically spent a half-hour lying to each other.

Not real lies, tangible lies that could be dragged from one's soul and exposed out in a mysterious kangaroo court, say, in Antarctica. They were subtle lies, my favorite kind. Lies, in the way she half-reached for my hand as if she were willing to touch me; the lunch plans we made as if it could ever be the same again; in my laughter, my charm, my words as if we even wanted to go back to the way things were.

On the other hand, Storm and I are comfortable in silence and I shift my thoughts to her as we finish our meal. I want to ask her how she feels about me now, what she thinks of this hateful revelation. Finally, we look at one another.

"I'm sorry for not tellin' you 'bout dis t'ing from de get go." (Lie, I wish you would have never found out.)

"You should n' 'ave found out dat way." (True, If you needed to know I would have told you myself, right?)

"I just can' express to you how sorry I am 'bout de Morlocks, 'bout the whole thing." (Lie, Sure I can express it -- I hate myself and I'd rather be dead right now.)

"I'll always regret it and do everything I can to make up for it." (True, true, true and it will never be enough.)

She replies "I am sorry too, my friend." (True) "You had no choice." (True) "I forgive you." (Lie, Lie, Lie)

The words are all sincere. She is a Goddess -- she believes in ceremony. I'm a thief so I know from tradition. We have both been heroes so we understand playing a role.

The lie is not in her bright blue eyes or in my crooked smile. The lies are lost in our warm embrace and the gentle tear that lands on my shoulder could be from happiness not grief. The lie is not in the way we clear up the meal, or in our parting kiss.

The lie is in the fact that I remain here, in my own private hell.

Maybe, if we can find all the lies and make them true, I can call her Stormy again.

And it will be all right to sleep again.


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