Thick as Thieves - REVIEW THIS STORY

Written by Valerie Jones and Lori McDonald
Last updated: 01/02/2007 02:01:11 AM

Chapter 4

Quietly, Bobby stood in the doorway to the X-Men's laboratory and watched his best friend work. It wasn't something he could do with any great regularity, as Hank's experiments went way above what he remembered in science class. In fact, Hank's whole mind was beyond what he could comprehend. It amazed him that his old spit ball partner could look into a microscope and find things that would never occur to him in a million years. Of course, Hank was so smart, he'd realized he had no hope of matching him long ago, so he never tried. Never trying meant never failing and Hank stayed his closest friend. Still, he couldn't watch him without becoming incredibly bored and needing to say something.

Today was no exception.

"What are you doing?" He asked.

"Hmm?" Beast looked over at him, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose under his glasses. It was something he always did when he'd been thinking too hard and lost touch with reality, though he denied it vigourously. "Oh, I am examining the viroid which causes one of the many strains of the Legacy Virus."

Bobby had been listening to Hank speak for so long that he understood exactly what he was saying. His vocabulary had to improve for them to communicate, even if he didn't use it himself. On Hank, it was a personality trait, on him it'd just look silly.

"Right. Um, can I ask you something?"

"Indubitably ."

Bobby came into the lab, stuffing his hands into his pockets selfconsciously. "Hank, do you remember when we were kids, and we had the treehouse in the woods behind the mansion?"

Hank grinned. "Of course, with the secret handshake and passwords designed to keep it hidden from girls."

"Except the only girl we had to worry about was a telepath who knew about it anyway."

"And in the first rain, it all fell down?" Hank sighed. "I had forgotten about that. Ah, childhood memories. They make me feel SO old." He chuckled.

Bobby smiled. "Um, do you remember the promises we made to each other?"

The big blue mutant leaned back in his chair. "Besides the resolve to stand up to the local bullies, which I believe we backed out of at the last minute, and put snow in Scott's bed? If I remember, it was to tell the other the moment one of us experienced 'love at first sight'. I think we felt it must be something akin to stomach discomfort."

Bobby shrugged. "Yeah. I just don't want it getting around that I broke any promises to you other than not running from Brian Hathaway at the mall."

Slowly, Hank's eyes widened. "Bobby, are you telling me that you have experienced l'amoure? The big arrow in the heart? The pizza with all your favourite toppings and your name on it? Bobby, are you in love?!"

His head ducked, he nodded quickly. "Iceman! You devil!" Before Bobby realized what had happened, Hank scooped him up into his arms and danced around the lab with him, white coat flapping, singing at the top of his lungs and somehow managing not to crash into anything.

Laughing, Bobby struggled to get down, but Hank was taller than him and his feet wouldn't touch the floor.

"Hank, put me down! Come on, please?"

Finally, as the song either ended, or more likely, Hank couldn't remember the words, he put him down. Or, more precisely, he plopped him down so he was sitting on the edge of a table and they were eye to eye.

"So, tell me," he asked in a conspiratorial whisper. "Was it like we hoped? Was it like walking on air with an angel at your side, or more like you swallowed your gum?"

Bobby sputtered with laughter. "More like the angel thing," he gasped.

"Hmm. No wonder Warren always had so much luck with the ladies. So, where did you meet this flower of womanhood, this lady love? The movie theatre, in line for postage? Dare I say it, at the checkout stand with the week's groceries?"

"In the ladies room at the library."

Hank's jaw dropped open and stayed that way for a few seconds before he closed it. "Obviously, I've been trying in the wrong spots. Is there any particular reason you met her in the ladies room, or is there something about your weekend activities you haven't been telling me?"

Bobby turned red. "That's twisted, Hank."

"Oh, I don't know. You'd probably look quite fetching in a nice summer dress and pumps."

"Hank!"

"Sorry, sorry," the Beast said, not looking sorry at all. "So, tell me, what is the name of this vision of loveliness?"

Bobby hesitated. He really wanted to talk about Diedre, but he was afraid to tell too much. He didn't want anyone knowing about the club, because he didn't really have a good explanation for why he'd been there. Or why he couldn't go back. He'd tried earlier that night to get in, but had been refused admittance. He'd demanded to see the manager without luck and actually been thrown onto the sidewalk by a bouncer he was convinced was a mutant with superstrength. The only piece of information he'd been able to get out of them was that apprentices weren't allowed into the club without their master's permission.

Besides, he'd finally come to the conclusion that he'd left talking about it too long. He didn't want to deal with the questions of why he followed Gambit, then didn't tell anyone. He didn't want to deal with the looks he'd get. The whispers of how maybe he was involved. The look of disappointment on the Professor's face, and on Scott's. He knew exactly how Scott would react, and he wanted to deal with one of his lectures even less.

More, he was afraid of what the X-Men might do. The club was obviously a spot for illegal activites, so what would they do? They may report on it, which would bring the police in. The thought of a raid being made on the club, of Diedre being arrested because he was an idiot who couldn't keep his mouth shut, worried him. Besides, she'd asked him not to tell anyone he'd met her. She was obviously shy and he had no desire to make her a topic of mansion gossip.

Hank took his hesitation as meaning something very different, though. "Um, she is a vision of loveliness, is she not?" He flushed, though you could barely tell through his thick fur. It quivered a little though, showing his embarrassment. "Not that that is important. I'm sure she has a wonderful personality." His fur quivered even harder.

Bobby glared at him. "She's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, if you must know."

Hank looked as though he didn't know whether to be even more embarrassed or relieved. Obviously, he decided to drop the whole thing and go on to more questions designed to embarrass Bobby instead of himself.

"So, what's her name? Porticia, Daisy-Mae, Tito...?"

In spite of himself, Bobby laughed. "Where do you come up with this stuff?"

"It is a calculated attempt to make you still your guts, figuratively speaking. My next technique will be the tickle attack if you do not start talking."

Bobby threw his hands up in mock defense, wondering how far he could go, how much he could tell him. "Okay, okay, her name is Diedre."

"Diedre." Beast grinned and stepped away, flopping down in a chair expectantly. "A beautiful name, how it rolls off the tongue, how it..."

"Beast?"

"Yes?"

"You're laying it on a little thick."

Beast barked a laugh. "Come now, how often is it my best friend comes in here to tell me he's in love? Don't answer that." Bobby rolled his eyes. "What does she look like?"

Bobby hesitated again. This was a normal question, he decided. He could answer this one. "Um, kinda innocent-looking."

Beast's eyes widened. "She isn't a minor, is she?"

"No!"

"Wonderful! Define 'innocent'."

"Ur, blond, thin, pretty."

"Excellent. Can you give me any more detail than that? Come now, I need to know for the mansion gossip pool. Does she live near here? where does she work? Does she like you? Has she agreed to have your children? Is she allergic to cats? I do hope she isn't, otherwise she's going to have a bad reaction to my fuzzy blue self. When are you bringing her here?"

Bobby blanched at the words 'mansion gossip pool'. How could he have forgotten how Beast loved to talk, about anything and everything to just about anybody? He'd have news of Diedre over the house in an hour, and the second Jean heard, she'd light into him for even more details. He'd never be able to keep knowledge of the club away from her. Then she'd tell Scott and he'd have the place busted. Scott was not one to allow any place he knew was illegal alone. And unlike the Hellfire Club, he didn't think that little club had enough power to defend against him. Also, it'd probably get him on Gambit's bad side, even more than he already was, which was a realization that surprised him. Still, with his failure to get back into the club on his own, he knew that Gambit was his only link to Diedre. He had to stay in his good graces. The thought of that left a sour taste in his mouth, but Diedre was worth it. She had to be. No other woman made him feel the way she did without even trying.

"Um, look, Hank. I'm kinda new at this falling in love business, and I don't want to ruin it. Can you please not ask me any more, and especially not tell anyone?" He couldn't look at him as he said it, and there was no force in his voice.

Beast was silent for a few moments, then Bobby felt his hand on his shoulder. "Of course, Bobby. I've always respected your wishes."

Bobby breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks, Hank. Um, I'll leave you to your work now." Without looking at him, he turned and hurried out.

Bobby went upstairs, wondering what to do. He was in love with a woman he couldn't get to and couldn't talk about without endangering her. And the only man who could get him together with her was one he couldn't stand being near.

Love sucks sometimes, he thought. An image of Diedre's face filled his mind's eye, as she'd been in the bathroom, surprised and pleased, and genually happy to see him. But it's worth it!

Grinning, he went to find Gambit, determined to get him to take him back to the club. So what if he had to swallow a little pride to do so. It wasn't as if he cared about the Cajun's opinion. He was still scum.

He heard voices in the living room and looked in the door. Gambit was sitting on the couch across from Warren, talking about... investing?"

"Non, mon ami," the Cajun said. "Real estate ain' no good. I prefer more port'ble assets."

Warren nodded in slow agreement. "Yes, but without real estate, you don't have anywhere to go."

"Well, I will grant y' dat one."

Bobby's jaw dropped open in surprise. He had a degree in accounting and he knew when someone was bluffing about finances. The Cajun wasn't.

Warren looked at his watch. "My tea must be boiling by now. Do you want some?"

"Merci."

Warren walked past Bobby, who quickly followed him to the kitchen, his surprise still on his face. "You're talking investments with Gambit?"

Warren started pouring hot water in a tea pot. "Yeah. I must admit, Remy may turn my stomach most of the time, but he knows money. I've made a tidy bundle off some of his suggestions. I think he's taken some of my advice too."

"But, how?"

"I dunno. He's close mouthed, but he's let a few hints drop. I think he has as much money as I do. He may have as much as the Professor." He grabbed two cups, some sugar and cream, and put them all on a tray. "I haven't asked where he got it all in the first place, though. I don't really want to know."

Warren headed back to the living room as Bobby sat down. Pulling out his wallet, he looked at his pitifully small ATM statement and wondered about the financial rewards of theft versus obedience.