Do I really have to put this disclaimer
every time? All characters belong to Marvel, and are not used
to make me a profit. Don't use them to make you a profit.
Look left and right before crossing a road. Archive and distribute
freely! If you do so, please credit me and don't change anything.
Drop me a line if you feel so inclined, any flames will be
treated with the respect they deserve and placed in file 13.
Criticism is welcome! Continuity mistakes? Well ... this is
not necessarily the true story, (eg. Storm was a child when
Gambit found her) although I have tried to stick as close
to the comics as possible. By the way, there is no PG-13 Stuff
in here - it's all clean. Carpe fabulam! Seize the story!
P.S. Thanks to Bobbi J. Gorden for the description of Jean-Luc
LeBeau. Thanks to Karolina K. Phillips (again) for telling
me Rogue's favorite ice cream. (It's pieces of information
like that I love!)
It was rain ... again. But he didn't care. He stood on the
threshold of destiny. His destiny.
He looked up at his creations, metal behemoths standing guard
over his innocuous barnyard.
The sky cried, large drops falling on the burnished metal,
and rolling down to form puddles on the earth. He smiled.
This was his destiny. The destiny of Bolivar Trask.
The television flicked on in the apartment.
"Another anti-mutant riot exploded in the center of
town today; injuring several people and killing two mutants....
"Let me tell you, Larry, these mutants have gone too
far now. Soon there will be no more humans...."
"We given the whole world a taste of what an organised
humanity can do, will do ... "
"What did the Mutant Shapeshifter do when he walked
down the road?"
"He turned into a shop.... "
"They're a menace, a menace to society ... "
"Please sir, I'm just a harmless mutant, I never meant
to burn down your building. It was an accident.... "
76 Channels and all of them broadcasting the same thing.
"You said WHAT?!" Rogue yelled.
"Calm down, Rogue. I just said that Gambit was leaving."
Bobby Drake shrunk away from the angry woman. "Why are
you so mad about it?"
"No reason, Drake. Just the fact that he didn't have
the decency to come an' tell me himself. "
"I don't blame him." Iceman muttered.
"What was that?"
"Shure didn't sound like nothin' t'me."
She was really upset, he thought, her accent had become thicker
than ever. There, unfortunately, could only be one explanation
for that. Rogue had done exactly what he had advised her not
"Don't take it out on me. I only bring the bad' news,
not create it."
"It's that cajun jerk's fault. Ah shoulda never trusted
"You trusted him?"
"Ye ... No! He said that he'd stay."
"For a week. A week's over now."
"Ah know. Ah just thought ... Ah mean Ah hoped ... "
"That he'd stay? Forget it. He doesn't belong here.
I know it. He knows it. And you know it too."
"Then Ah don't belong here neither."
"Don't even attempt to equate yourself with him, Rogue."
"Are ya blind? Don't ya see how sim'lar we are?"
"You're completely different. Despite everything, you
haven't lost your soul."
"But ... how do you know that?"
"I can see that you still have something inside, that
you still care.But Rogue, Gambit's eyes are completely hollow.
He's lost everything he ever cared about, and he doesn't care
"Then perhaps, just perhaps, it's up ta us t'give him
something back ... "
"Au Revoir, Stormy." Gambit opened the door to
"Remy?! Did your mother never teach you to knock?"
She looked annoyed.
"Never had a mother, chere."
She sighed, "Anyway, you were saying?"
"I came to say goodbye."
"Oui. My week is up. I must move on."
"You do realise you can stay here?"
"I know - I t'ink dat perhaps it be better if I go....
" He smiled, "Fearless leader has been havin' a
bad case of insomnia wit' me around."
"Is that your real reason?"
"Non. Just de witty rejoinder."
"Would it hurt you to be serious for one minute?"
"Don' know - never tried it."
"Have you said goodbye to everyone else?"
"Oui, cept for Rogue."
"Why not her?"
"Don' wan' an argument about dis. She be one persuasive
"Then it is a pity you will not talk to her, my friend.
Perhaps she could dissuade you from going?"
"Do not call me that ridiculous name! Storm is sufficent."
"I don' wan' t'go - but I must."
"Why? Have you been on the run so long that you have
forgotten what it is like to have a home; people who care
"Chere, please. Dis is hard for me, but don' y'see I
don't belong here? Dese people are good at heart, noble -
I'm jus' a t'ief."
"If your heart was really as evil as you claim, you
would have left me to the mercies of the Shadow King."
"Nobody ever dat evil."
"You would be surprised."
There was an uncomfortable moment of silence.
"Don't you want a chance to stand for something more?
To forge a better tomorrow? To fight for a dream?"
"Dreams die, chere. I know dat from personal experience."
"Only when people give up on them, Remy. It is not often
that I ask anything of a person, and I am asking you now:
please stay. Not only for your sake, but for mine.
"I will try. For your sake. But I promise not'ing."
"That in itself is a start." She kissed him on
the cheek. "Thank you, my friend."
"Now, let's not get all misty-eyed here, Stormy. I might
"You will, but in the end it will be more for you than
Gambit laughed. "Peut-etre, chere, peut-etre."
I still intended t'leave, of course. Weren't no arguments
could dissuade me from dat. I would just postpone my departure
by a few weeks. Enough t'make Stormy happy. Enough t'make
She never did. Dat femme walked around like she had de world
on her shoulders and den some.
Didn' seem t'have many friends neither. Jus' Iceman, reckoned
Drake was de only one wit' any taste. I seemed t'fit in easier,
my being de rescuer of Storm helped dat. Dey never trusted
me, but dey accepted me. An' for de first time in de longest
time, I felt dat perhaps I'd come home....
"You're stayin' then." Rogue said, walking into
the room where he was sitting.
"Oui, chere. I decided dat it be better if I wait a
little longer b'fore goin'." Gambit took a draw of his
"Disgustin' habit that."
"Yeah. Do you realise exactly what is in a cigarette?"
"If I did, I would probably give smokin' up."
"Then why do you do it?"
"It relaxes me."
Her lips twisted in an odd manner. "You'll look very
relaxed lyin' in yer coffin."
He stubbed it out on the ash-tray.
"Much. Pity about all the smoke." She coughed.
"We can go outside."
"Good idea, b'fore Ah suffocate ta death. Anyway, Ah
need t'talk to you."
" Bout what?" Gambit followed her outside. It was
a beautiful night, crisp and clean with a star-sprinkled sky.
The last remnants of the clouds were gone, and the moon was
almost full, casting a silver glow over the garden.
"Ah love nights like this." She hugged herself,
pretending not to have heard the question. "Usually go
flyin' on them."
"You said you wanted to talk to me.... "
"Ah did. How come aren't you goin' any more?"
"Storm asked me to stay."
"You still haven't answered my question. Why did you
decide t'listen t'her?"
"Many reasons, chere. Not de least of which is de fact
dat I wanted to stay here with you."
Her eyes were angry, a little puzzled.
"Ah don't like t'be made fun of, cajun."
"Didn't want t'make fun of you. Jus' being ... "
"Call it dat if y'like. But it's not de truth."
"You're confusing, Remy LeBeau. An' Ah'm not sure of
Ah trust you."
He remained silent, searching the stars for an answer; a
witty riposte; any words to bridge the gap between them. None
came. Impulsively, in a gesture of friendship, he took her
gloved hand in his.
"Don't you get it yet?" She shook her hand free
and turned to face him. "You can't touch me; you never
will be able to touch me."
"Dat don't matter to me. I want t'be your friend. Hoped
you felt de same way."
"Ah hoped Ah did too - but Ah don't."
"Pity." Slowly, he turned around and walked indoors.
Rogue sat down, her eyes fixed at the icy stars, which gradually
began to blur.
"Ah want t'be more, Sugah." She whispered. "But
"Mom ... " The scream tore the night in two.
"Alan! Come! Oh my god, no! No! "
"Maria, what is it?"
"It's Benjy - he's...he's ... "
"Oh my sweet Lord.... "
"Last night, in a violent attack seemingly perpetrated
by a mutant, a seven-year old boy was critically injured."
The radio crackled. "He is being operated upon in the
Sister of Mercy Hospital but it is still uncertain whether
he shall live or die."
Cyclops flicked it off, "Great. More bad press for mutants,
as if we didn't have enough already."
"That poor kid." Jean said sympathetically. "His
"What about poor mutantkind? You can guarantee that
every mutant will pay for this, except the ones who did it."
"Scott." She put her arms around him, "I know
the current situation is ... hard on you, but don't let it
get you down. Sure we're fighting racism, speciesism', any
-isms's' you care to think of, but we can't lose sight of
the most important -ism - optimism."
"Quoting aphorisms won't help us on the battlefield."
"If you think it's just an aphorism, you've lost sight
of what Xavier first believed in - Hope."
"Sometimes I think Xavier has lost sight of his own
"Scott ... we've discussed this ad nauseum." Jean's
voice sounded annoyed.
"I know, honey. It's just that ... I don't know... I
don't like the current direction the team is taking."
"Truth be told; nor do I. But, then I ask myself, has
Xavier ever been wrong before?"
"No. But there's always a first time for everything."
"Scott! It is impossible to reason with you when you
persist in being such a cynic."
"Okay, okay! I will stop being such a cynic and pay
attention to my beautiful girl-friend when she tries to convince
me that everything will turn out okay in the end."
"About this girl-friend thing ... "
"Isn't it about time that we ... "
"Hello, Scotty, Jean. Everyone's favorite bouncing blue-furred
Beast has arrived, as hirsuite and hungry as ever." Henry
McCoy bounded into the kitchen. "So without any confusion
or circumlocution, Let's eat!"
"The bowls are in the cupboard, help yourself."
Jean passed him the box of cornflakes.
"Thank you." Beast poured the cereal into the bowl.
"You look cheerful today, Beast. What's the occasion?"
"Am I that depressed; that angst-ridden; that when I
enter a room with a cheerful countenance, people presume that
something special is happening?" Beast put a look of
mock indignation on his face, "Apart from the fact that
I have a date with the charming, and multi-talented Tish Tilby
"How is Tish?"
"In perfect health."
"Mornin' Red. Mornin' Cyke." Wolverine entered
the room, his face in its customary scowl.
"Logan! You're back!"
"Yeah. Pass the cornflakes."
"How did the trip go?"
"Don't we feel monosyllabic today?" Beast said.
"The cajun's still here?" Wolverine ignored the
"Yes. He decided to stay for a while longer."
"The sooner he goes, the better. His smell is familiar
- a bad familiar."
"What do you mean?" Cyclops was curious.
"I mean I've smelt it someplace before, bub. Someplace
bad. Wish I could remember where."
"I have a feeling there's more to be learnt about our
Mr LeBeau than he lets on." Jean said.
Scott nodded, agreeing with the red-haired telepath. "Perhaps
it is better we keep him here under surveillance, and prevent
him from becoming a potential threat; than having him go rogue,
pun not intended, elsewhere."
"Good-day, y'all." Rogue entered the room, yawning.
"Speak of the deviless." Logan muttered.
<<Wolverine! Be nice!>>
<<It's a saying, Jeannie.>>
<<Not in the way you meant it.>>
"Is Remy here?"
"No - I'm afraid I have seen neither hide nor hair of
our multi-lingual, loquacious comrade." Beast said, "He
seems not to be enamoured by all times ante meridiem."
"English, Beast?" Everyone chorused.
"He isn't a morning's person."
"You couldn't have said that, bub?" Wolverine mumbled.
"If you want a one word answer - icouldhavebutididn't."
"Why are you looking for him anyway?" Cyclops asked
"I need t'talk to him."
"Oh." A telepathic nudge by Jean cautioned him
against further inquiry.
<<Scott, you're their leader, NOT their father.>>
<<I know, but I don't trust either of them ... together,
I trust them even less.>>
"So, Ah'll just get breakfast and be off." Rogue
Jean smiled reassuringly, "Have some Alpha-bits."
"With swirled Marshmellow numbers, in two fabulous flavours."
Beast put on his advertiser's voice. "Buy yours today
and be the envy of every kid on the block."
"Ah'll stick t'muesli - if y'all don't mind." She
sat down and pulled a bowl towards her. "Much healthier
"But less status-enhancing!" Beast interrupted.
"Mah status is fine, Hank." Rogue teased, "But
your colon on the other hand.... "
"Leave my colon out of this."
Breakfast passed quickly after that, but finally Rogue stood
"Ah must go now. Thanks foh breakfast."
"Our pleasure." Jean elbowed Cyclops who managed
a sickly smile.
She walked out of the room, smiling and thinking that perhaps
today would be brighter.
He slept, haunted by his memories as they flashed past in
a slide-show of his life, mirrored in his dreams. Him as a
child, standing by his father'. Him tithing for the first
time to Candra. Him fighting Julien to the death.Him standing
beside his bride on their wedding day, and by her grave three
years later. Him undergoing the initiation into the guild
laid out in the Tracts of Passage. Him holding Genevieve in
his arms as she died. Him learning the first lesson of thievery:
never give your heart away if you want to survive. The visions
carried on, increasing in darkness as they passed through
his conciousness. Paris. St. Louis. Seattle.... He woke in
a cold sweat, looking around the normality of the room. He
was safe. But for how long? A knock on the door. He stood
up. He'd slept fully clothed, too tired to change.
A pair of green eyes met his, sparkling with vitality and
exuberance, uncorrupted in their emerald purity.
"Ah hoped you'd be in here."
"Rogue? What d'you want?"
"Y'all sure know how ta make a lady feel welcome."
"Sorry." He swept a shirt off the chair. "Sit."
"Thanks." She did as he suggested.
"So? Not dat it isn't a pleasure to have a beautiful
woman in my room, but what d'you need me for?"
"Ah came to say Ah'm sorry."
" Bout what, chere?"
" Bout last night. Ah didn't mean what Ah said. In retrospect,
Ah guess Ah was just upset."
"So, we're friends?"
"Good." Her lips curved into a sunny smile. "Now,
Ah'll let y'all get changed."
She exited the room, closing the door behind her. Gambit
stood for a long while watching the spot where she last had
been, and wondering about the possibility which had gradually
begun to take root and grow in his mind.
De past dey say is prologue; if you do not know the sins
of your past, you are doomed t'repeat dem. Fine words; beautiful
words; deep words. But when it come right down to it, jus'
empty words. Your past is part of you; good or evil. It is
de only t'ing you can never change - no matter how much ya
wish ya could. How much I wish I could.
"Voleur! Tu n'as pas pay pour ces pommes."
[Thief! You have not paid for those apples]
The little boy ran down the alleyway, pushing people out
of the way in his desperation to escape.
"Arretez cet garcon!" The merchant screamed, pursuing
[Stop that boy!]
He ran, clutching his stolen fruit close to him; glancing
behind him every few seconds to ascertain whether the merchant
had caught up with him.
"Oomph." The boy stopped short, he'd run into what
seemed to be a brick-wall. It was a man, about 6"1 and
handsome. He was dressed in an impeccable tailored suit, obviously
"Ou allez-vous, petit voleur?"
[Where are you going, little thief?]
"Monsieur, je doit echapper, cet homme a cru que j'ai
vol ses pommes."
[Mr. I must escape, that man thought that I stole his apples]
"Non - il a tort!" The boy looked offended.
[No - he's wrong!]
"Donc, bon." The man had an amused look on his
face. "Je parlerai avec il."
[Okay then] [I'll speak with him]
The merchant had caught up with them, his face was red from
exertion and he was panting.
"Monsieur. Merci, vous avez attrap cet ... voleur."
[Sir, thank you. You caught that ... thief]
"Ca ne fait rien - mais il est seul un garcon - je payerai
[That's fine - but he's just a boy - I'll pay for him]
"Merci, monsieur ... ?"
[Thank you, Mr ... ?]
"LeBeau. Jean-Luc LeBeau."
"Mais je dois parler aux agents du police."
[But I must talk to the policemen]
"Non. Je crois que vous devriez oublier tout."
He slipped a crisp $100 bill into the merchant's hand.
[No. I think\believe that you should forget everything]
"Bon." The merchant laughed. "C'est bon."
[Good] [It is good]
He walked slowly back down the alley-way, fingering the note
in his pocket.
"Cochon." M. LeBeau snorted contemptously.
[Yes, little one?]
"Pouquoi avez-vous pay pour moi?"
[Why did you pay for me?]
"Ah, mais ce n'a pas libre."
[Ah, but it wasn't for free]
"Tu doit venir
[You must come home with me.]
"Pour manger, et peut-etre, boire." The older man
smiled. "Comment t'appelle tu?"
[To eat, and perhaps, to drink] [What is your name?]
"M'sieu ... je n'ai pas un nom."
[Mister ... I don't have a name.]
"Bizarre. Je te doit appeler quelque-chose."
[Odd. I must call you something]
"M'sieu peut choisir."
[Mister can choose]
"Mmmm ... je t'appelle Remy - c'est le nom de mon pere.
Un bon nom, je crois."
[Mmmm ... I will call you Remy - the name of my father. A
good name, I think]
"Oui, M'sieu. Je m'appelerai Remy depuis."
[Yes, sir. I will call myself Remy from now on.]
"Bon." He began walking down the street, and gestured
for the young boy to follow him.
I looked around de room; at de glamour and glister dat Jean-Luc
leBeau called home; Dat I soon would call home. Oddly enough,
only one t'ought passed t'rough my mind - dese people had
money. I soon would learn dat it wasn't clean money, made
wit' hard work, but money stolen from de worker. Guess I shoulda
questioned how right it was at sometime, but I never did,
To be a t'ief was as natural t'me as breathing. Perhaps dat
was why I soon rose t'rough de guild ranks, passin' from apprentice,
to student, and den came de time for my initiation; de final
test b'fore I could call m'self Master T'ief.'...
"You ready for de pinch, mon frere?" Henri looked
at his younger brother with consternation. He was so young,
so inexperienced and yet showed unbelievable skill.
"Course, Henri. I be ready for it since poppa told us
about dis mission." Remy smiled, and lit a cigarette
"You have de details den?"
"Gotta steal l'Etoile de Tricherie from a femme, Genevieve
Darceneaux, for de guild. Oui, I know."
"Your bravado does not impress me, Remy. Dis is a serious
matter. De pinch is not a game."
"Ah, but it is ... "
"You get caught and de guild doesn't know you. Mon pere
doesn't know you."
"I unnerstand. But I won't get caught."
'Arrogant.' Henri thought, Experience will soon change that!'
"Den I don' have much t'say, but good luck."
"When Remy plays de game, luck has not'ing t'do wit'
"Meet you in a cafe dans les Champs Elysees?"
"Bon. Au Revoir."
Remy melted into the background, leaving Henri behind to
shake his head and offer a prayer to the Patron Saint of Thieves
on behalf of his impetuous younger brother.
He heard her scream, a sound that spilt the peace of the
Parisien night. Instantly, he reacted, running in that direction.
He saw her then, Genevieve Darceneaux, trapped by a monster.
"Monsieur Chatton...?" He attempted to put as much
courage into his voice as possible.
The head of the man-beast whipped around. Remy had the impression
of fangs, fur and teeth; all combined into something of which
Darwin had never dreamed.
"Get away if you don't want to be gutted, pup - this
isn't your concern."
"Au contraire - when someone threatens a beautiful woman,
it is very much my concern."
"Bad move. Ever wonder why all heroes die young?"
He bared his teeth; sharp, razor-like fangs curving into his
"You may have de teeth, monsieur, but I have de bite."
Remy's hand glowed momentarily. "Get away from de woman,
if y'don' want t'see how sharp it is."
The man-beast looked at him in disgust, before turning around.
"You win ... this time. But I'll be back and next time,
you won't be so lucky " The man-beast slunk away into
the shadows. The young man breathed out in relief, and wiped
the sweat off his forehead.
"Mademoiselle, are you all right?" He extended
a hand to the woman.
"Thanks to you." She took it and stood up. Her
hand was small and perfectly formed, with almond shaped nails
painted a delicate pink. She looked fragile with wispy, copper
hair and huge chestnut eyes. One could hardly believe she
was the daughter of a infamous jewel thief; a thief herself;
the one from whom he had to steal.
"Can I see you home?" He asked, a polite veneer
covering baser motives.
"Thank you. I would appreciate it greatly - as you see
the streets of Paris are not safe for a single woman any more."
Her calm tone belied her physical appearance.
They walked off together into the mist which hung over Paris
like so much smoke.
Genevieve fell in love wit' me - it was inevitable dat in
de course of our walks and dates, she would. It was part of
my plan. Lookin' back, I t'ink dat I took de most precious
t'ing in de world an' turned it against her; turned somet'ing
wonderful into a weapon. I now know how she must have felt
about me, it's much de same way I feel about de woman I love.
Perhaps ... if hadn't been for dat night, I could have forgiven
myself. She had fallen asleep in my arms, after a night of
dancing and clubbing. Silently, I covered her wit' de blanket
and took l'Etoile de Tricherie. Like an amateur, or perhaps
someone who had never been betrayed, she had left it on de
dresser. She had never realised dat I wasn't who I said. I
left de apartment by de window, and was away over the rooftops,
before she woke up, her eyes frightened and a scream frozen
on her lips.
Darkness. Her eyes blinked open. Where was she? Light as
the blindfold was ripped off, and instantaneously she wished
it hadn't been. She was suspended 100 feet above the ground;
at the highest point of Notre Dame. Steeling herself against
the bile she felt rising in her throat, she looked around.
Nearby, a man hung in a similar predicament. He was tall and
plump with a moustache. Tears began to stream down her cheeks
and the same words drummed through her mind, a fervent prayer.
"Lord, let Remy come. Lord, let Remy come."
She almost believed in miracles when she saw him standing
"Monsieur Chatton?" He looked afraid; his voice
had lost its cocky edge, despite the brave words. "Let
"Throw me the bauble, then I will. Of course, I catch
with my right hand, so I'll have to drop them."
"You would kill for jewellery? But ... to me, it was
just a game." He whispered more to himself than anyone
"And I just raised the ante. Sorry, kid."
Remy threw the pendant, and it fell at the captor's feet.
Genevieve felt her heart stop, Remy would choose her over
the man. She trusted his love for her enough to believe he
would. The man-beast dropped the rope, and she fell. Her eyes
filled with bitter tears, because the last sight she ever
saw was Remy's hand clutching the rope of the man.
I had no choice. Blood over the woman I didn't I love. Perhaps
I could have left it at dat an' moved on - but for de last
words Genevieve ever spoke. "I loved you, Remy - had
you asked I would have given you the Cheating Star. Why take
what someone will give?"
Den I wonder why I never saw de simplicity of it before ...
perhaps I was too lost in de smoke and mirrors.
Continued in Chapter
Monsieur Chatton - Mr Kitten (I always felt Marvel should
have translated that one!)
Down-Home Charm / Fan-Fiction /
Fan Artwork / History Books /
Photo Album / Songbank /
Miscellania / Links /
Legalese: Rogue, the X-Men, and the distinctive likenesses thereof
are Trademarks of Marvel Characters, Inc. and are used without permission. This is an
unofficial fansite, and is not sponsored, licensed or approved by