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Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
 
 
 

Always Relied on the Kindness of Strange Femmes - REVIEW THIS STORY

Written by Diamonde
Last updated: 01/02/2007 02:01:11 AM

Chapter 4

Always Relied on the Kindness of Strange Femmes

Remy was pondering the ultimate little-girl phenomenon. He'd known a little girl or two in his time, hell, when he'd rescued Storm she'd been a little girl. But he'd never lived so closely with one before, and so had somehow missed the truly bizarre side of the little-girl icon. The Barbie doll.

This particular type of toy was a new addition to Marie's already extensive collection, and her new favourite game. He'd known that he would get roped into playing eventually, it had just been a matter of time. But luckily for his dignity Marie was more interested in creating the ideal setup that actually playing with dumb grown-ups.

Remy looked at the pile of clothes, sighed, and started to look for something that wasn't pink. That was another strange thing. He could trace some of the stereotype logic, pink was the girl colour, Barbie was a girl, therefore Barbie wore pink. Presumably so you could tell she was a girl, although with hair down to her knees and breasts as large as her buttocks he didn't know how you could miss it. No, the problem was not that Barbie wore pink, it was that Vedis and Marie bought it and wanted it respectively. Vedis only ever wore light rose if she wanted to look sweet and innocent, and Marie would die before donning anything of the dreaded colour. He was fairly sure that Barbie's hot pink perpetrations were the only pink wearables in the house.

He eventually managed to dress to satisfaction the doll he'd been given, which he'd tentatively decided was the Beverly Hills Barbie, although no adult could tell her from the others without the credit cards and pink poodle. Marie always knew. She could recognize Beverly Hills Barbie, Amazing Abseil Barbie and Prom Night Barbie from across the room while they were wearing each other's clothes. But everyone knew Equal Opportunities Marine Barbie, because after her semi-automatic got caught in her long synthetic hair Marie had given her a GI Jane crew-cut in the interests of safety.

Remy smiled at his creation. She wasn't perfect, but she would do. Black pants, white shirt and a red jacket with the boots. It just needed something… yes. Ken's separately-bought-accessories baseball cap. There was only one Ken, of course. There is only ever one Ken. This particular Ken had been a well-mannered speaking doll in a tuxedo who was supposed to go with Prom Night Barbie, until Marie had switched his voice unit with her Last Stand Super-Soldier (Vedis didn't believe in gender restrictions) and now he ran with Abseil. Remy picked up the now-unique Ken in his khaki shirt and camouflage pants, wondering idly if he was happier that way.

"Petite belle? Where does dis one go?"

Marie looked up from where she was building a Lego office of some sort. "He goes in the big house wif Marine Barbie coz she's his sister."

Made sense. He settled Sergeant Ken on a seat in the Amazing Collapsible Light Up Barbie Wonder Mansion to watch TV. Marine Barbie was busy working on her Action Man Stealth Attack Snow-Ski Tank. Abseil was in her tent up on the mountain (armchair), and Beverly was at her usual seat in the Expandable Super-Hyper Mall, which had moving escalators, revolving door, telephone booth and working fountain. A thought occurred to him. "What use is a snow-ski tank? It fall t'rough de snow."

"No it wouldn't, it doesn't even sink in the bath." Marie settled her new building at the end of the 'street' as she cleared up that little mystery. Then she looked at it and sighed. "Mom. I need another Barbie."

"Why?" Vedis was bending little coathangers with her telekinesis.

"I need a Psychonnelist Barbie. Marine Barbie has problems."

"I think you've got enough, honey. Are you sure Marine Barbie wouldn't be better off just going on Buddhist spiritual retreat in the mountains?"

"Don't have any buddafists." Marie was quite skilled at making sure everything ended with her getting something.

"I do." Vedis smiled, having finally gotten one over Marie. "I'll get him." She soon returned with a miniature laughing Buddha and other supplies. On the armchair that Abseil hadn't claimed she set up an avenue of plastic trees leading to the little wooden figure and Super-Soldier's bedroll. "Ta daaa."

Marie looked dubious, but sent Marine Barbie to the new Buddhist retreat. Remy had no doubt at all that she would get her Psychologist Barbie anyway. All she had to say was that Anice had six Barbies now, and Vedis would promptly buy her two more to keep ahead. Of course, he knew that Anice said the very same thing to her grandmother. The pair of girls had figured out that those two hated each other and would not be outdone, and that was a good way to get what you wanted. Anice and Marie didn't care who had more, they were best friends and played with each others toys anyway. But Vedis knew that Anice's grandmother thought she was a bad mother because she wasn't married, and was highly suspicious of all the 'uncles', especially Remy himself. Remy didn't mind much but Vedis did, and went to all sorts of absurd lengths to prove that Marie was treated just as well as any other child. Of course, she had put her foot down on the pony issue. Remy smiled as he remembered it.

"Anice might be getting a pony," Marie had said, seemingly casual. Vedis had just snorted and mumbled figures to herself as she tallied up the weeks earnings, but Marie had not been put off. "I'd like a pony." She'd sighed sadly and continued to brush her toy dog.

"If we get a pony Remy would have to move out so we could put it in his room." Vedis hadn't looked up or cracked a smile. Marie frowned. "And if your Uncle Remy moved out, you'd have to go into daycare." Marie hadn't liked the thought of that at all, and it had taken her a few minutes to think of a good solution.

"Uncle Remy can sleep in your room wif you," she eventually decided. Remy and Vedis had both burst out laughing at the thought of what The Evil Old Bag (as they called her when they were being polite) would have reacted to that. Then Marie's feeling had been hurt, because she couldn't stand being laughed at, and they'd eventually bought her off with a pony for Barbie. The big black one, not that pathetic white one with the pink plastic horseshoes which Marie greatly disapproved of. And of course Anice's grandmother had had to keep up, and Anice's Barbie got a car, so Marie's Beverly now drove a Mustang…

"Vedis?"

"What?" She put her book down and looked attentive.

"I decided what I want f' Christmas. I want a Black Lesbian Mutant Megalomaniac Biker Barbie, wit' handgun, cigarettes, tampons, Ultimate Super-Loud Whinge function an' nuclear missile. Oh yeah, and a helmet."

The freshly-painted green door opened silently, revealing a large, open-faced man. He smiled. "Good morning, Remy. Come on in." Remy followed him inside gladly. It was raining, and he wanted to get warm. "I'll go find the girls." James Fallon bustled off with a wink. The reason for the wink soon became apparent.

"Well, if it isn't Mr LeBeau." She always managed to make it sound like an insult.

"Mrs Pearson." He could play that too, and frequently did. But somehow he never quite managed the same acidic edge. Anice's grandmother was still reasonably fit, even though she lived with her daughter and ran the poor woman ragged, and her eyesight was perfect. She scrutinized him disapprovingly and Remy happily remembered what he was wearing. Black jeans, boots and leather jacket. Of course, he was wearing his Calvin and Hobbes T-shirt underneath, but she didn't know that.

From the direction of the kitchen a flustered-looking woman entered. She had short blonde hair, faded blue eyes and a harried face. But she was nice, and Remy smiled flirtatiously at her. She blushed and smiled back. "Hello, Janet. Having a good day?"

"Not really, Remy. I managed to break two glasses in one go, and I burnt my hand on the iron." She waved a bandaged hand to demonstrate. Remy looked sympathetic and put an arm around her shoulders.

"I'll make it better, don' worry." Janet nearly laughed. Remy had that little-boy gleam in his eyes, which meant he was going to try and annoy her mother. He kissed her fingertips and smiled. "We leave all dis an go to de Bahamas together, non? Get you a nice maid, so you don' do any dishes or ironing…"

She did giggle at that. "Oh yes. Take me away!"

Remy laughed and gave her a little squeeze. "As soon as you can guarantee dat James won' kill me we'll go." The old lady looked daggers at him and made disapproving noises.

Janet ignored him. "Thanks Remy, I needed that. So, is this just a social visit or did you want something?"

He frowned. "I'm here to pick up Marie."

The colour drained out of Janet's face. "B-but she already got collected."

"By who?" Remy was suddenly starting to look scary.

"A tall man with dark hair…" she knew how it must sound. "But he knew you and Julia so well! And Marie recognized him! She said he was an old friend of yours…"

Remy grabbed her by the shoulders. "What was his name?" His voice was absolutely chilling.

"Essex, I'm sure that was it…" Remy swore and spun towards the door. Janet started to cry. Obviously she'd done the wrong thing, and Marie was gone.

Remy paused and turned back for a second. "Don' blame y'self too much. If he wanted her, dere's not'ing y' could have done dat would have made any difference."

The thought was chilling. "But… shouldn't we call the police?"

"No. As far as dey're concerned he don' exist."

Remy didn't notice the rain. He entered the building at a dead run and leapt into the elevator just as the doors were closing. There were about four other people, by the look of them they were all returning from highly paid office jobs. From the looks they were giving him they thought he was insane. He paused for a second to look at himself in one of the wall panels. He was soaked, wild eyed and… was he pacing? In an elevator? Remy, snap out of it! You're channeling Scott! He held himself reasonably still with sheer willpower, although he did vibrate a little. The little metal box kept rising, and another person got out. Remy himself was in two minds on arriving. One was desperate to rescue Marie and couldn't wait to get its hands on the secure phone line. The other didn't know how to tell Vedis that his oldest enemy had kidnapped her daughter.

"Julia? Phone for you."

Vedis sighed and climbed off Rogue's bed, where they had been playing an unorthodox game of Cheat. Or so it seemed, she'd really been digging for dirt that she could share with Mystique later, but that wasn't important. "Always when you're in the middle of a hand. Remy I suppose, since no one else knows I'm here."

"Yes. And he sounded…" Joseph couldn't think of quite the word to describe it. "…a cross between homicidal and hysterical."

She frowned. "That doesn't sound like him."

Joseph shrugged and handed her the telephone. "Maybe it was just because I answered."

"Remy? What's wrong, babe?"

Joseph and Rogue watched the smile slowly fade from her face. Only the hand holding the receiver showed a trace of emotion, clenched so tightly her knuckles where white.

"I guess it wasn't me." Joseph murmured.

"I have to go." Vedis dropped the telephone and pushed past Joseph, maybe a little more roughly than was strictly necessary. Both he and Rogue followed, looking at each other worriedly. Vedis approached the stairs at a sprint with no intention of using them. Too slow. She flipped herself over the rail of the landing instead, relying on trained reflexes for a safe landing. They didn't fail her. Never had. Wolverine might tell you that in a severe crisis when the brain is having trouble, he will tend to separate into Man and Beast, his wilder side being a constant danger. He should really thank whatever deity he favoured that he only had two. Vedis had many more, usually perfectly integrated. Being a shapeshifting freelancer required several different personas. But at times like this they sometimes disagreed and tripped each other up, so whichever was most appropriate took control. Man and Beast had nothing on them. Front door… and a chest in her way. Giving the Mercenary Reflexes control had a price. Their immediate answer was to stick something sharp into it and kick it out of the way. Conscious Thought was screaming 'NO! We know this chest! We most certainly don't want to do anything to it! Except possibly…' and was lost. Libido just couldn't compete with Mommy, who was very, very angry. But she was thinking again, so she straightened and stopped. A run like that ran on sensory information and destination, not thought. And with thought came realisation. Sam watched in surprise as she burst into tears.

"What's wrong?"

"S-Sinister… h-he's got Marie!" The Huntress then decided it was time for it to take things in hand. Mommy and Conscious Thought were trying in their own little muddled way to figure out what to do, leaving only a desire to bury the body's face in that nice friendly chest and have a good cry. 'And this is helping?' she hissed to no one in particular and stepped firmly into the driver's seat. Vedis' head snapped up, eyes clearing, face focussed and emotionless. "So get out of my way." Sam blinked. "Please," added Libido. He intelligently stepped aside. If he hadn't then the Huntress would have hit him, no matter what Libido said. She raced out the door and flipped it shut, before taking off and accelerating as fast as her body allowed.

Remy's mindset was also undergoing a transformation. It was time for Gambit to re-enter the playing field. The costume was long gone, but that was a superficial difference. The important part was where professional and uncaring Gambit the Thief took control and bundled frantically worried Remy LeBeau off into one of the brain's dark corners. Closed eyes and a few deep breaths were all it took. Oxygen flooded his blood, adrenaline heightened his senses and his brain cleared. His position. Target. Plan. Other concerns were secondary. His eyes opened again, glittering red, and swept the room. When Vedis arrived he heard her heartbeat from across the room, but not her footsteps. The Huntress was in control, which should make things easier. They could be rational, and leave the hysterics for later.

"Are you sure it was him?"

"Janet said his name was Essex. And I know it was him."

"Why?" It didn't sound like a objection, a desperate cry for life to break character and be fair. She merely sounded mildly interested. Gambit was absolutely spooked, the Huntress had almost completely taken over, down to the deepest emotional level. That was rather worrying, not to mention dangerous.

"Me." Honestly seemed the best idea.

"You sure?"

"Oh yes. Dis his way of saying 'You never call no more.'"

"So where's he going to take her?"

"Jus' follow me. Dere only a few places he'd go, places where he have all de aces. And one of de worst one is right here in de Big Apple."

"Now let's not run off half-cocked here. If Jules wanted our help, she woulda asked."

"Wolverine, both she and Marie are ordinary people. What can Gambit do on his own?"

Marrow shook her head sadly. Domino snorted. Cannonball voiced what several other people were thinking. "Ordinary person mah butt. Cyclops, she jumped off the landing, did two somersaults and landed running. If Ah hadn't moved she woulda smacked me through the wall."

"Plus she can fly."

Scott leaned forwards. "And you never felt the need to share that before, Rogue?"

"No, not really."

There was a pause.

"So now we know all the pertinent details…" Beast looked at all the concurring faces.

"We go, obviously." Wolverine rolled his eyes. They all nodded.

Cyclops sighed. "Where?"

Everyone shuffled in a slightly embarrassed fashion except Marrow. She hadn't really made up her mind about Gambit. The part of her that screamed vengeance for her murdered people wanted his blood, but one memory always seemed to get in the way. His hands pulling her out of the carnage, risking his own life to get her out. Comforting her, making her feel safe. And a voice filled with sorrow saying as he bled all over her "I know dis don't mean a t'ing to you now, but for what it's worth… I'm sorry. I didn't know it would be like dis…" She didn't forgive him. Never, ever would. But what was the difference between the little girl he'd saved from Marauders back then and the little girl he was trying to save from the monster who'd created them now? Well, Marie was cleaner, and prettier, and had everything she had always craved. But Marie was still a child, and if Sarah had anything to say about it, no other children would suffer at Sinister's hands. "I think I could make a good guess," she said quietly.

Two people in black were creeping through the tunnels. There had been several changes since Gambit had last been here, which despite much trying he remembered every minute of. The infra-red traps were new. So were the mutant guards in fancy cyber-suits. It appeared that someone had spent a lot of time and effort trying to make sure no one could get in. Appearances could be deceiving. These were just supposed to slow the two of them down, wear them out and give them a false sense of security. Oh yes, that was Nathaniel Essex down to the ground and back up again. A trick within a trick, games within games, and you never knew who was playing or what for. Gambit crept silently up behind a faceless, sexless person completely enclosed in expensive technology… except for that one small fault. The sentry gurgled and attempted to break free as the bo-staff was jerked horizontally up under its neckpiece. A voice filled with flat hatred whispered in its ear.

"Dat's right, keep struggling. Give me a reason t' kill you."

Marrow would have moved a lot faster and a lot quieter if she hadn't had to bring all these X-Men with her. At least they hadn't decided to bring the entire team, which had seriously grown since she had first joined. And they had tried to bring mostly decent skulkers. But Cyclops had decided he had to come, and no one was game to try and stop Rogue. Angel wanted to face his demons and Storm had insisted. And none of them knew the lowest tunnels like she did, not even another Morlock would have. These weren't Morlock tunnels, but even here in the realm of evil she knew her way, although she'd only been here once. But something wasn't right, didn't feel quite… "No, stop!" Too late. Hidden lights in the ceiling snapped on, blinding them. An alarm screeched, and running feet were approaching. Marrow swore. They had tried to break her of the habit, but she had never pretended to be a lady. Didn't really want to be, if it came right down to it. For a start, if she were a real lady she wouldn't be able to fight off the guys in the weird suits that belonged on a Manga movie.

"What de hell was dat?" Gambit squinted and put his hand over his eyes. "I know it wasn't us!"

"Well let's find what it was then, genius." And she was gone. Metamorphs were such a pain in the backside.

"You?! What are you doing here?" Gambit had moved on through annoyed and angry into enraged.

"Um… helping?" Cyclops blushed.

"Oh yes, I can tell!"

"Actually, Gambit, they are superfluous to what will happen here. Their presence or absence changes nothing." Somehow Sinister had crept up on them without anyone noticing. And he was carrying Marie. Immediately, about six people went to jump him and bounced off the Huntress' telekinetic shield.

"No!"

Sinister looked at her and laughed. "Quite right, little one. Why throw her life away? Your powers won't work on me when I stand on this side of the room." He looked at the Huntress, then the X-Men, then back at her. She had never bothered to shift from Julia's face. "I am really disappointed with myself, I should have figured out who you were long ago. But you are very sneaky. Almost as sneaky as Gambit." The X-Men looked blank. "Oh, they mustn't know either. Well, that is true to form. You people and your dirty little secrets." He smiled almost paternally at her and Gambit. "But then I suppose it would defeat the purpose of a secret identity to just tell people that ordinary Julia Adamson and the reputedly heartless Huntress are one and the same."

There were a few muffled exclamations, which Vedis ignored. "It would, wouldn't it? Now give me back my daughter."

"When you give me back what's mine, child. Fair is fair." He looked at the unnaturally calm, almost blank Marie. "She's a miracle really. You were never supposed to be able to reproduce." He chuckled at her obvious shock. "Oh yes, I know that too. I have… assisted in their research from time to time. They wouldn't listen to me, though. I did warn them. 'Give her enough rope and she'll hang you with it,' I said. I had counted you among the promising but tragically lost projects, but then when I try to recover my own I discover that this little girl has some very familiar sequences. Interesting sequences. Unfortunately, it seems her father was a human and much of her potential has been wasted." He sighed. "I suppose it is too much to hope that you and Gambit might have children? That would be… fascinating."

"Definitely too much. Besides, I thought you wanted him back."

"Oh yes. But unless I nail his foot to the floor he'll eventually run away again, and I like to plan ahead." He patted Marie on the head. "Now, interesting as this little discussion has been, I'm a busy man. I get Gambit, willing or unwilling and you will get back your daughter. I don't, and… well, she is interesting. A little careful engineering and she'd make a good Marauder."

Gambit's mind reeled. It was too late. If he thought she was Marauder material, he'd never give her back. A trick within a trick. Sinister wanted him, Marie and probably Vedis as well. He couldn't let that happen, he had to do something. But you can't get something for nothing. Sinister already owned his soul and he gave his heart away, all he have left to bargain with was his life. How much for dat pitiful t'ing? He looked at Marie and imagined that sweet little person turned into a conscienceless killer. The intensity of his reaction to the image was almost frightening. Dat much.

"I don' see it happening, Essex." Gambit walked forwards and to the right, distancing himself from the X-Men and Sinister. A supernatural calm had settled in, now that he knew exactly what he wanted and how much he was willing to give up for it. That was where Sinister had always trapped him before, but he wouldn't this time.

"Oh? I can. Vividly. I know you, and you won't refuse me. I own you." He laughed, a sound like ice breaking underfoot.

"Dat you do. I'm a possession, a prized project you've been workin' on for years. How much do you value your time? Because even if y' do own me, you ain't never managed t' control me yet." He pulled the knife out of his boot and looked Sinister squarely in the eyes. Red eyes, so much like his own. He had his suspicions about that. Then, never breaking the visual connection, he slashed his own left wrist most of the way to his elbow. Nerve endings screamed as warm blood pumped out over his arm, but it didn't matter. He'd looked death in the face before, in tunnels not unlike these ones, and it no longer inspired fear. "Let her go, or watch me die slowly. Your choice." There was movement among the room's other occupants, but neither Gambit or Sinister was paying any attention. Remy just hoped that Vedis would understand what he was doing and not let any of them interfere. By the sound of it she was.

Sinister's eyes were filled with chagrin, and what was almost surprise. Then they narrowed. "You wouldn't. You care far too much about your own life."

"Maybe I used to. Not anymore. Because I hate you, and if dyin' is what I 'ave t' do to really get de boot in I will!" He was really angry now, but feeling pretty good. Because he finally had Sinister by the balls. He wiggled his fingers and drops fell like rubies. "Would you look at all dat valuable blood goin' to waste." He smiled. "Quite a standoff, non?"

Sinister hissed, and took a few steps forwards. Then he stopped, toeing an invisible line. "Do you think this will mean anything? Do you think this will earn you absolution? Do you think any of these people will really care if you die?"

"Don't matter. I don't care. What I do care 'bout is dat you don' want me dead. And you can't come over an' stop me, 'cause as soon as you step out from under dat t'ing dey be able to hit you wit' all sorts o' nasty mutant powers." He smiled wider.

Time dragged on, hours passed, and nobody moved. Remy fought to stay conscious. Reality was getting blurry. He was seeing people who shouldn't be there, and missing some things that should. But that was wrong. Hallucinating Morlocks, that made sense. But why would he not be seeing Maggott's whatever-they-weres? He frowned, and looked a bit more carefully. The dead mutants became more shadowy, and he managed to find the odd creatures. They were sneaking up behind Sinister, so slowly you couldn't even see them move. Unless of course you were bleeding to death and time was getting a little distorted. Satisfied, he stopped concentrating on seeing and started thinking. The transparent victims crawled in from his peripheral vision, or what little of it there was left. They didn't matter. He started to wonder what would happen to him when he died. He'd seen a lot of inexplicable things in his lifetime. Angels and devils, real ones. Sorceresses and the dead brought back. But what would happen to him? Were the Christians right? If they were he might be in trouble, even with that little mission from God. Or would it be a tall skeleton with a scythe? No, that theory had never really appealed. Maybe he would get that chance… what was it called? The Greek thing where if you did bad stuff but were sorry you'd get tortured for a year then get taken out on the river to see if your victims forgave you? He might well be in trouble there too. Oh well. What did they say? 'Death is the last great adventure' or something like that. Now that made much more sense. Something moved. Gambit turned to look at it, and decided it probably wasn't something anyone else was seeing. Death itself (not just death the thing or even Death the person, but Death the inescapable reality, second being to enter the multiverse and certainly the last to leave) was a woman, as he'd always suspected. Her hair and cloak were dark, but that skin had never seen sunlight. She smiled faintly and came towards him, standing just as tall. But what he couldn't look away from was her eyes. The irises were perfect copies of the night sky, dark blue and scattered with stars, while the pupils held the promise of warm oblivion where guilt and pain could never touch you. It was so tempting. He fell into them, embracing the last adventure.

"No!" Sinister shoved Marie towards Vedis as Gambit slowly fell forwards into a puddle of his own blood. Vedis pushed her at Angel and ran over to Gambit. Rogue was already there.

"Decent heartbeat, that's something. The stubborn bastard was only staying up on willpower." She closed the long cut with telekinesis and started undoing her emergency bandages that were pretending to be exotic leg wrappings. Then she turned around and frowned. "Where did Sinister go? I have to kill h-" Eany merely burped. They all stared and wondered if he would be able to come back from Eany and Meany's comprehensive digestion. The nanotech bomb hadn't…

"Marie? Hon, you okay?" Marie turned to blankly stare at her mother. Neither recognition or interest flickered in those usually lively green eyes. Vedis caught her breath in a ragged sob. "Oh my little baby. What did he do to you?" She knelt down and wrapped her arms around the little figure, desperation quivering from every suddenly vulnerable inch. If Marie understood, she didn't show it.

"Julia? Let me try." Psylocke put one hand on Marie's head and closed her eyes. A few moments told her the simple truth. "Don't worry, it's not permanent. Just a telepathic dampener. It will wear off soon."

"Thank you." Vedis smiled tearfully and gave the confused Englishwoman a hug with the arm that wasn't wrapped around her daughter. Psylocke awkwardly patted her shoulder.

"There there."

"What happened to him?" Cecilia was all business as soon as she saw an injured person.

"Slit his own wrist and stood there leaking until Sinister gave in or he ran out of blood," Angel supplied.

"He lost, I see."

"Oh no, he won. Just… after he passed out."

"Tell me about it later. Can we give him a blood transfusion?"

Beast shook his head. "No. He's an energy converter. Unless you have someone with identical powers and the same ABO blood type you're out of luck. And in case you're wondering, we've never found anyone with a similar mutation."

She cursed mildly. "That is going to make it much more-" She broke off and stared back over Beast's shoulder. "Tell me I'm seeing double."

Beast turned around. There was another Gambit standing behind him. "It won't be exactly the same, but it should be compatible," it said.

"Metamorph?" Beast asked weakly. The words were coming out of that mouth, but they didn't have a Cajun accent. It was rather unsettling.

"How did you guess?" Vedis looked impatient. "Now are you going to give him my blood or not?"

"Yes?" Cecilia suggested, still looking backwards and forwards to compare. Vedis sighed. Everyone always wanted to find a difference.

Blood was transferred with a minimum of fuss, although the process made Vedis turn green and she had to lie down for a minute while they stitched up his arm. "Where did Marie go? I want my baby." Vedis got up, tottered a little, then shifted back into her own form and shook her head to clear it. "I hope he'll appreciate the body mass I just sacrificed." Beast looked up at her and smiled knowingly to himself. Some people found it very hard to admit they were concerned, as if it would somehow remove their independence. Take Rogue, for example. Although her relationship with Gambit was supposedly long gone, here she was hovering in a corner. He gave Cecilia a doctor-communication look. She nodded almost imperceptibly.

"Rogue? Could you watch him for a little while?"

"What? Oh, alright. But he'll be okay, won't he?"

"Probably. It'd just… be a good idea to have someone keeping an eye on him." Cecilia carefully sounded as if it was more serious than she was letting on.

They both left quietly as Rogue settled herself in the chair next to the bed. "Cecilia," Beast whispered, "unless he has a stupendous and hitherto unobserved, not to mention improbable, allergy to metamorphic phagocytes, Gambit will be fine."

She rolled her eyes. "Men. About as sensitive to emotional overtones as a brick."

"Ah." He nodded and looked ridiculously conspiratorial. "A ploy. How cunning of you, Doctor Reyes."

"Thank you, Doctor McCoy. I believe the results of this little stratagem will be most engaging."

"Oooh! Challenging me on my own ground! Very well then, let's see who knows the most big words. What is a kakistocracy?"

"The government of a state by the worst citizens. What's resupination?"

"In the mid eighteenth century it meant the inversion of parts. I'm impressed, and if you weren't already married I'd be tempted to run away with you."

"If you can tell me what inderfinestucation is, I just might." She grinned.

"That is not a word!"

"Is so. It's a condition induced by overexposure to dictionaries and working long hours, causing lack of love-life and, in extreme cases, premature fur loss." She patted his shoulder and frowned at the blue hairs on her palm. "Oh, looks like you already know."

"I'm moulting!"

"Of course you are. I believe you."

"It's not just me, Kurt's doing it too. And Warren has been unusually testy for while now."

"Yeah, not being allowed on the couch is one, but they're not showing that other symptom. Lack of a life?" She laughed and ducked the friendly swipe.

"Well, it's just us again. Funny, when things get bad it's always just us in the important seconds. You an' me together against the world, whether it's ending or maybe just gettin' assimilated. Should've listened to Sandra Bullock, shouldn't we? 'Relationships based on intense circumstances nevah last.' And what Ah call our 'relationship', for want of a bettah word, was one big intense circumstance, reelin' from one disaster t' the next. Like this, for example. We're talkin' like rational adults, but just 'cause you're unconscious an' Ah'm feelin' bad about it. … You're a good-lookin' bastard, even when ya are half-dead o' blood loss, Ah'll admit that. Okay, maybe ya ain't as much of a bastard as Ah thought. Ah guess not many people would've had the guts to do what you did for that little girl. Ya took a big gamble, but you won and she's alright. Almost makes me wish we coulda been different. If you hadn't done the things ya did, an' if Ah'd never had trouble controllin' mah powers. …

"Would we have had a couple of kids, Remy? Maybe we would. … Wonder what they would have looked like. Dark hair like you, Ah guess. Never really managed to decide what colour mah hair is, y'know. Some days Ah thinks it's dark auburn, others it's just plain brown. Maybe we'd have a kid with that colour too. And maybe a little white streak like Nate Grey's. That'd be cute, wouldn't it? Sure looks precious on him. Would they be boys or girls? Maybe both. … Ah don't know if you wanted lots of children, or any at all. Funny that Ah never asked. But you ain't awake, so Ah can dream without reality intrudin'. Ah always wanted a whole heap, sweet little things. And a nice big house down south, so they'd all have room t' run 'round. An orchard, some horses off the side, and dogs, and cats, and maybe chickens. But no pigs, Ah don't like them. Or cows, they're just big an' dumb an' boring. …

"Ya know, Ah used to dream 'bout gettin' swept off mah feet by some tall, dark, handsome man who had plenty of money. So we nevah had to worry, and owned our land outright. Ah grew up dirt poor, an' didn't plan on stayin' that way. Used t' think it wasn't too much to ask of the world. Ah just wanted to be happy, die a real old lady and get buried under the apple trees. Would Ah have done that if you an' me had worked out, Remy? Or maybe we would have been happy for a while, then someone like Graydon Creed would've gotten himself elected and we'd have been buried in unmarked graves in a concentration camp somewhere. Would it have been worth it for the good times? Maybe. But not as nice as mah little dream-house, Ah think Ah'll stick with that. Ah'm fulla maybes tonight, aren't I? But they sure are nice to think about. And you always made me feel like Ah was allowed t' dream." Rogue leaned over and kissed him gently on the lips, and to her surprise he kissed her back. She pulled back in surprise. His eyes opened and he smiled tiredly. One hand reached out and gave hers a weak squeeze.

"Don' ever stop dreamin', chere. It never too late for de ones dat count." He sighed and slipped back into sleep, holding Rogue's image of a happy family in a big house very close. Suddenly it was the most precious thing he had.

 

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