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"Secrets Better Left Unknown"

Secrets Better Left Unknown

Chapter 1
Chapter 2

This story is in progress.

DISCLAIMER: The characters (most of them anyway) used in the following story are the property of Marvel Comics and are used without permission. No one is making any money off of this so please don't sue. Besides, neither one of us have much money anyway.:)
AUTHOURS' NOTES: For continuity's sake, this story doesn't really take place at any given time. Suffice to say it is relatively recent in Marvel's time and none of the Trial garbage has taken place. This is also my (J's) first attempt at fan fiction and as Shera Crawler once said: "Feedback to writers is like water to flowers, so water a writer today!" No Rave, I'm not taking this from you. I just love this waaaay too much not to use it.:) Both of us love feedback, so please, PLEASE, respond! Contact Revel at

Secrets Better Left Unknown
Chapter One

He walked his bike into the mansions garage not as much because he didn't want to wake anybody, but more as to the fact that he didn't want anyone still awake to know that he was back. Or that he had left in the first place.

Bishop would know, paranoid moron that he was, patrolling the grounds at all hours of the day and night. He didn't care about Bishop though. Ever since Onslaught happened, Gambit had been absolved from the title 'x-traitor' in the time traveler's eyes. Ever since Onslaught, Gambit doubted himself more and more. If the Professor could do something like that, what did that mean for himself?

Remy LeBeau pushed those unwelcome thoughts out of his mind. W'at wrong wit' you, boy? Y' spen' a night wit a gorgeous femme, eatin' good food an' drinkin good wine, but still you come 'ome feelin' like shit. He'd had a good time tonight. He started at The Limelight, goal to forget his worries with drink and dance, mixed in with some pleasant female company.

She had blonde hair and blue eyes that shone like diamonds. Fairly intelligent at first glance, even better company when they sat down at a table and talked. He had offered her a ride home, with full intentions to stay there for a nightcap, but decided against it at the last minute. She had been disappointed. He felt relieved.

Lighting a cigarette, he leaned against the garage door. Dis is startin' to become a habit. Third night in the past two months with the same result. The first time it was a bimbo airhead. And he had thought Jubilee said, 'like' too many times. Last time it was a danger-loving brunette that had seemed to be a bit too much like Genevieve. This time he couldn't shake the feeling that he was dancing with Candra or Belle. " Might as well give up, d'rate dis is goin'. "

"Don't seem like the quittin' type, Cajun. "

Remy jumped, cigarette falling out his mouth. This shouldn't have happened. Logan was good, but in the open like this he should've heard him. He should have sensed him.

"Whatcha doin' sneakin' up on a body like dat, eh? "

"Wasn't sneaking. I've been here the whole time. Can't say the same for you, though. " Wolverine purposely needled Gambit, to see if he had lost his cool as a result of the surprise. He needn't have bothered.

"Jus' t'ought I'd enjoy de warm weat'er. Dis Cajun misses de Big Easy, is all. See you 'round Logan. " And with that final word and his customary nonchalant smile, the mutant known to most of the world as Gambit flicked his finished cigarette away and disappeared into the shadows.

The control booth of the Danger Room the following morning:

Scott Summers, also known as Cyclops, leader of the X-Men, sat at the console of the alien technology. He was waiting for all the members of his team to come into the room below and start the training session. The clock above his head read 10:47 am. Thirteen more minutes until everybody showed up ... Twelve more minutes until everybody showed up. Scott Summers was bored. His fingers drummed absently on the metal while his visored gaze flitted across the tech.

Yes, Scott Summers was very bored. Suddenly his attention was caught by the opening of the Danger Room door as Bishop walked in, trusty plasma rifle in hand. All the time the big man had spent in this house and he still thought it was important to impress the old-timers.

After Bishop, came Cannonball. Then the female populace of the mansion, Storm, Rogue, Psylocke and Phoenix, chatting amiably. Jean looked up at the control booth and smiled as Cyclops gave her a mental kiss. They were followed by Iceman and Archangel, still yawning. Wolverine sauntered in and leaned against a corner wall expectantly. As Cyclops looked at him he thought, He knows something, but what?

~Oh, stop it, Scott,~ replied Jean Grey. ~You're getting as paranoid as Bishop.~ Again Scott thanked the powers that be, for his wonderful wife. Without her, he could never hope to have the strength to lead. Sending a rueful smile along their psychic rapport, he continued to wait for the last X-Man.

Gambit. The digital clock above his head already read ten minutes after eleven, and still no sign of the man. I don't need this from you right now, Remy. Show up. This is a good day. thought Summers.

"Yo, fearless leader, what're we waiting for? " That was Bobby.

"We are waiting for Gambit, " Answered Storm, as perceptive as ever.

"You mean I got up this early for nothing? Oh man! Not again." Scott put his head in his hands. Come on. It's only eleven in the morning.

3:23 PM, Gambit's room:

A groan sounded from the tumble of sheets and comforter that lay in a heap on the four poster bed. Sunlight streamed in through the uncovered window, waking the room's sole occupant. The man in the bed rolled over again and found himself face first on the wooden floor. Remy sprang up from his sprawl to a fighting stance, eyes painfully trying to blink away sleep.

His reflexes were sharp, but his brain hadn't yet caught up to his body. When it did, doing so much slower than it should, and his eyes regained their function, one of the worlds best thieves and escape artists woke up to his own reflection. It stared back at him groggy, truculent… and nude.

Gambit quickly ran over to his window and shut the blinds. He then stuck his head through and checked in all directions, retracting it back only when he made sure no one was there. T'ank God no one saw me. When the moment of panic subsided, Remy started to berate himself on his own sloppiness. If dere had been someone dere, you'd be dead by now, boy. He looked at his reflection in the mirror and grimaced, completely disgusted with himself. Is dis what you've come to, eh? Losin' your edge in alla dis rel'tive safety?

His eyes then rested on his clock, and he remembered the Danger Room exercise. Merde! (1) Cyclops's gonna kill me! Musta turned off the alarm in my sleep (2). With lightning speed Remy threw on his uniform and armor, tucking cards and Bo staff as he sprinted down the corridor to the lifts.

When the Danger Room's metal doors parted for him, he found the room deserted. Confused, he checked the War Room and found all the X-Men inside, listening to what appeared to be a briefing on a mission. All eyes turned to him as he desperately tried to even out his breath. Cyclops wore Gambit's customary poker face, but Jean could barely keep a straight face as she picked up on his thoughts.

Inside he was whooping and hollering that he'd managed to break past Remy's facade and take him unawares. On the opposite side of the table Storm wore an appreciative smile in regards to Scott's strategy in dealing with the wayward thief. Remy wanted to die. For the life of him he couldn't think of anything to say, and hated Scott for it.

Recovering his composure, he asked, "What's dat? " as he pointed to the holographic display in the middle of the room.

"It's a schematic of the FOH headquarters in Adirondack Park, Hamilton Country. Cerebro picked up some suspicious activity there. I want to check it out. " Scott's tone was flat as his mind went back to leader mode. Gambit took a seat in the only vacant chair at the table, sneering at the snickering Drake as he passed him by.

"I've already selected a team to infiltrate. Because this should be done quietly and with maximum stealth, Wolverine, Psylocke, and Gambit will go."

"W'at sort of secur'ty do dey have?" Remy's mind filled with images of various locks and defense systems and the tools he would need to bypass them.

"If you had gotten here on time you would have heard that already." There was absolutely no way that Scott would let this just slide. He continued to re-explain.

"This is one of the more heavily guarded branches. Punch code locks, heavy laser grids, state of the art surveillance. It's possible that they have hired specialized help. You will come in from opposite ends and meet up at the west entrance. After you get in you will break up again and find as much info as you can. Leave as quietly as you came in. Communicate telepathically, via Psylocke between each other and radio with me and the other X-Men. Any questions?" Cyclops looked at three mutants expectantly.

"All right then. Blackbird takes off in fifteen minutes. We've got a long flight ahead of us."

"…long flight ahead of us. " < Click > The screen goes black.

The man sits alone surrounded by darkness, black gloved fingers rubbing his jaw. Delightful. And it couldn't have happened at a better time.

His gaze settles on another display screen, showing a man in a fighting stance, barely controlled rage burning in his eyes. It is time to return to me... your creator.

He then reaches over and picks up a normal looking telephone which seems out of place surrounded by all the advanced technology and dials a number. The phone rings on the other end of the connection. A pleasant female's voice says, "Hello, this is the Friends of Humanity. How may I help you?"


Continued in Chapter 2.

Author's Notes:
1) The French don't actually use this to swear, but I don't know any phrases that they do.
2)This has happened to me soooo many times. Probably'd explain why I didn't have my homework done that day.J


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