Chapter Text
Old habits die hard.
This is what Logan thought as stood, leaning over the back of the soft suede couch that stood in one of the X-Mansion’s many community spaces, holding a steaming mug of coffee in his hands, and looking down at the sleeping man below him.
Remy always went to bed with him, but rarely did he stay there, unless Logan kept him up all night. At first it bothered Logan, then he slowly came to realize Remy’s perpetual couch surfing was no different than his need to go off into the wilderness alone every so often, and let the animal inside him run free. It was instinct; habit, what have you.
It had been two months since Gambit had joined the X-Men. Things hadn’t been exactly quiet; there was always some shit being stirred up somewhere, but on a scale of one to invasion by Sentinel, things had been pretty laid back mission wise. He was grateful for this, because the transition hadn’t been completely smooth.
Scott, for one, had not exactly been thrilled at Wolverine’s abrupt request for a relative stranger to join their ranks. He was all for taking Remy on as a student of the school, but an actual X-Man was something different, something sacred. But Wolverine held more weight with the Professor than maybe ol’ One Eye had guessed. Another thing that had him steaming and grumbling and shooting Logan nasty looks across the room, assigning him the shitty tasks and battering him in training exercises.
Logan took it all in stride. Scott should be happy; he didn’t have to worry about Jean running off him anymore, or Logan leering at her down the hallway. He was having much more fun playing cat and mouse with the elusive Cajun, who liked to practice his stealth by sneaking around the estate, and seeing how long it too Logan to find him.
Remy sighed in his sleep and rubbed his face further into the pillow and Logan chuckled at the face he made in his sleep. The man below him cracked open an eye and blinked up at him with those strange ruby pupils. “Whatchu want, you creeper?” he chuckled, reaching up to scratch Logan’s cheek.
“Always wandering off, eh Gumbo? Gonna have to wear you out more I guess, if I wanna keep ya in my bed.”
“Sorry, cher,” Remy yanked, sitting up and rubbing his back and his neck. “Just—“
“Habits, I know. But my bed had plenty of room for both of us, and you have your own room if you want it. Only you never seem to go there.”
“Why I need dat when I keep all my t’ings with you?” his lover asked.
Logan handed him the mug of coffee and Gambit took it gratefully, gulping down a hot mouthful and sighing as it ran down into his stomach and warmed him. Outside it was still snowing faintly, but not sticking, leaving everything cold and grey and slushy. The red head looked at it and shivered, huddling deeper into his coat. He was not at all used to the cold damp weather of Westchester New York.
“Don’t know if I’ll ever get used ta dis cold,” he mumbled as Logan came around to sit beside him, draping one big arm around the younger man’s shoulders. “Don’t know how you stand it, seen you go out at night in the snow in hardly more den your skin.”
Logan grinned; “Got a thick layer of fur to keep me warm,” he chuckled, scratching at the dark curls that were poking up at the little gap in his flannel shirt. Remy chuckled and scratched at the hair himself, “Yeah, I know. I like dat hair, it’s warm and silky.”
“Ew, are you guys talking about Wolverine’s chest hair?” a voice interrupted them. Both men looked back to see a young woman, petite with short cropped black hair, wearing a bright pink cropped sweater and bagging cargo pants, observing them from the other side of the couch. “Gross.”
“No one asked ya to ease drop,” Logan chided her, still smirking. “Ain’t ya got class, Jubes?”
“It’s Saturday.”
The girl turned her eyes to Remy, whom she had taken an immediate interest in. “Wanna go down to that dumpy diner and have breakfast? Come on, Remy, please!”
“What time is it?” Gambit mumbled, still feeling sleep crust his eyes and glanced around for a clock.
“It’s almost ten! Come on, you promised me we could hang out!”
“That I did,” he amended with a shrug. “Alright, petite, give me a few minutes ta clean up, and I take ya out in dis miserable slush. But you buying me all de coffee I can drink, d’accord?”
“If that means ‘okay’, then yes!” She leaned over and kissed his cheek before darting off. She had almost left the room entirely before leaning back and yelling; “Logan, you’re coming too! And don’t wear that stupid hat!”
The feral mutant sighed as Remy smiled slyly at him, “Dat girl got you wrapped around her little finger.”
“You ain’t too far behind, Gumbo, the way she fawns all over you like you’re her latest girl friend. Thicker than thieves, I swear.”
“Well of course, we thieves and cast offs gotta stick together.” He finished another swig of the coffee, which was already too cold for his liking and stood up and stretched, allowing Logan to see a flash of his naval. The dark haired man licked his lips and tugged the man closer by his belt buckle. “Let’s say we do something special tonight, you and me? Go and out and relax.”
“Hmm, sounds cozy. You gotta place in mind?”
“Yeah, just a little dive bar, more your speed than mine. Thought we could try it out.”
Remy leaned down and kissed his gently. “Je’tame, mon cher. I see you in a few, gotta shower and change.”
“Alright, don’t keep ‘er waiting too long, or believe me she’ll think of a hundred other errands for us today, and I am not spending another two hundred dollars at the mall for things that ain’t even mine!”
“Growl, growl, growl all you want, Wolvie, she don’t hear you!” Gambit called back playfully, leaving Wolverine to sulk alone before deciding to go to his room and grab his biggest gawdest belt buckle and tan Stetson hat, just for spite.
**
The sleepy gloom that had enveloped the town lingered long into the afternoon, wind gusting and bringing with it wet flurries of snow that melted upon reaching the ground. Gambit sat huddled in the booth across from Logan and Jubilee, as the young girl filled them in on the latest gossip around the mansion.
“So, Scott has seemed pretty peeved at you lately,” the youth said, nudging Logan’s elbow as he shoveled another fork full of bacon and eggs into his mouth. “What’d you do this time?”
“Dunno,” he muttered. “Maybe I breathed too close ta him, or maybe our tighty-whites touched in the wash. Who the hell knows.”
“You don’t wear white briefs,” Remy corrected with a sly smile over the lip of his coffee mug. “You like dem black ones. When you wear anyt’ing at all.”
“Ew, really!” Jubilee squealed and Logan snorted and shot his lover a warning look.
“Watch yer mouth around the kid. God, don’t go giving her any mental images that’ll give her nightmares.”
“Desole, Wolvie.”
Logan glanced out the glass windows and spotted the car they had taken and the meter in front of it. “Gonna go feed the meter, be right back.” He slid out of the booth and sauntered off, leaving his companions alone.
The waitress came by and refilled Remy’s coffee cup again and Jubilee finally gave up on the last little bits of her pancake stack. “Thanks for coming out, Remy. I know it’s probably a little silly to you, hanging out with a kid like me.”
“Not at all, petite,” he replied. “You good company. I enjoy our little tete et tete.”
She grinned, always faintly tickled by his accent. “Me too. I think. How are you and Logan getting along? Do you like staying at the mansion?”
“C’est bon, chere,” he answered, picking at his own plate of eggs, which he had hardly touched. “Your Logan is very good to me. I thank my lucky stars every day I found him, or he found me. As for de Mansion…it’s an adjustment.”
“Gotta be better than sleeping in a subway,” she replied, gulping down her smoothie. Remy blinked and she flushed a little bit. “Oh…sorry. I, uh, heard some of the others talking…”
Remy huddled further back into his coat, now having lost all interest in his food. He plucked his deck of cards from his pocket and began to shuffle them, as was his habit whenever he felt bored or anxious. “Dey talk about me a lot, ‘can imagine. I make dem uncomfortable.”
“You make Scott uncomfortable. But he’s a good guy, he’ll come around. Everyone else says you mostly just keep to yourself, unless you’re doing card tricks or magic.”
“I don’t do magic,” Remy replied, though he charged one of his cards and allowed it float through the air towards Jubilee, who caught it and watched it changed shape, turning into a flower for her before disintegrating. “Just tricks.”
“You are so cool.”
Gambit laughed and she missed the ironic smirk at the corner of his mouth, “Well, dere is somet’ing to be said for showmanship. And Remy ain’t got nothin’ if he ain’t got a certain savoir faire.”
He glanced out the window, searching for Logan and wondering what was keeping the man, when the waitress sidled up along side him and slid the check to him. “Will that be all for you, honey?”
“I t’ink so, chere. Thank you for de service, “ he said, giving her a little wink and watching her skitter away with a smile.
“Do you ever turn that charm off?” Jubilee asked.
Gambit smiled, almost sadly. “Wish I could, petite. Wish I could.” He opened the little black book and saw there on top of the receipt a hastily scrawled note.
The time for hide and seek is done. You’ve run out of room to run.
The Cajun paled and dropped the booklet, which clattered onto the table and knocked over his coffee, which went spilling into his lap. He cursed and jumped up and Jubilee quickly made to dab up the mess. “Hey, everything okay?”
“Oui, petite…” Remy mumbled, still clutching the scrap of paper in his hand, just out of her sight. “I’m gonna go clean up. Tell Logan I be right back.” He ducked down the isle to the restroom and slid through the little red door, shutting and locking it behind him.
Once there he flattened himself against the door and held his breath, feeling a shudder of terror go through him. The note was not signed, but Remy knew it could have only come from one source. He moved to the sink and turned on the cold water, ignoring the empty stall behind him, and splashed his face and neck, trying to calm his panicked breathing.
How in the hell could Essex have tracked him here? He had been so careful, covering his tracks. His last mission with the X-Men had taken place decidedly out of the area, and he felt certain he would be under the radar. Had he guessed wrong?
Something moved behind him and Remy reached for his cards, turning and pinning the assailant to the wall, his arm crushing down on his throat in a choke hold, card ready to explode.
“You so much as touch me and I’ll—“ his words faultered when he realized he was staring at an unfamiliar face, who was looking at him with completely blank eyes.
“Don’t be too hasty, Remy,” Essex’s voice spoke through the man’s lips. Gambit backed off, but only just so, still ready to fight.
“I see you still in de business of climbing into other people’s heads. Dangerous practice, Essex, one of these days you’re gonna find one you can’t handle.”
“Perhaps. But let’s not talk about me, Remy. I’m far more concerned about you.”
“Dat’d be a first.”
“You think I don’t care about you, my young friend, but truly I do. You’re welfare, your betterment, has always been at the forefront of my mind.”
“Shut up! You just try ta come after me dis time, Sinister, you might find I’m harder ta catch. Got friends now, friends that would be very interested to know what you’ve been up to.”
“So why don’t you tell them?” the possessed man asked, smirking. Gambit snarled and tried to move away, but found that he was seized and thrown to the floor, the man’s foot on his chest. Gambit made to grab him and heave him off, but his assailant leaned close, covering his mouth with his hand.
“It’s not me you should be running from, my dearest Gambit. Right now, you have much bigger problems to worry about than what I will do when I catch you.”
“What are you talking about?” Remy sneered under his hand.
“Your old friends, The Marauders, seemed to have failed miserably in the last mission I sent you on, and some very disgruntled mutants seem to be out for reparations. You are not exempt from their vengeance, Remy. That I can assure you.”
Gambit kicked the man off him and sent him flying into the door. “You’re lying. You’re always lying, twisting your words, tryin’ ta fuck w’it me. Not anymore. I’m free of you. My debt is paid!”
“Is it, Remy? Is it?”
Gambit shuddered, hearing curious movement outside the door now and someone testing the knob. “Come home, and I will forgive all this treachery. I can protect you, Gambit. The X-Men can’t.”
“No deal, Sinister. I told you last time…you can no longer afford me.” He punched the man, hard enough to knock him cold. As he sagged the ground the door jarred open, revealing the manager and the waitress and behind them Logan.
“What the hell is going on in here?!” The manager yelled.
Remy pushed past him, shaking his knuckles. “Don’t know, homme. Maybe you ought to get dat man to a doctor, t’ink he’s a little punch drunk, and frisky.”
They blinked in confusion and Remy swept past them, Logan moving close beside him. “You alright?”
“I’m fine, let’s go home.”
***