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He came to her when she was in her greenhouse garden, conjuring up miniature rain clouds to water her beloved plants. Staying hidden, he waited for her to detect him, which, given his constant smoking and the resulting stench o cigarette smoke embedded into his overcoat, happened pretty quick.

“You can stop spying now,” her voice reached him, a smile curving his lips. “I know you are there.”
Stepping out of the shadows, his ever-present playing cards grasped within one gloved hand, he sauntered towards her. “Remy was not spying. He was merely watching da Goddess at work.”

An arched brow regarded him for quite sometime before returning to its natural curve.

“Remy’s not happy,” that particular opening gambit (pardon the pun) was a deliberate one on part of the Cajun charmer.
“Why?” It got her complete attention, her clouds fizzling out. “What happened?”
“Stormy’s angry wit Remy, dat’s why,” another perfect hit, except that knowing him as she did, Gambit was sure she caught onto it, the change in her eyes telling him that she did.

Once again, the eyebrow rose as Ororo caught onto Remy’s game. “What do you have going on in that little mind of yours brother?” Her question was direct but one asked with a smile.

--

Silent as he shuffled his cards, Remy deftly drew out the queen of hearts and showed it to Ororo, waiting for her fingers to reach up and touch it, before wording his next question. “’Roro, what happened in Africa?”
“Wh-what? What do you mean?” Her hesitation and an abrupt lightening flash across the previously clear skies told him that he was right on the mark.

“You can’t hide it Stormy,” he had noticed how she neglected to correct his nickname for her. Something was definitely the matter. “Remy see it in you. Ever since you came back, you are different.”
“People change Remy, even Goddesses.” The answer didn’t quite work….wouldn’t work, not with him, a man well versed in the game play of words.

“But not the way you have.” Deciding to force her hand, he played his trump card, a gamble that could work both ways for him. “An’ definitely not because of one man.”

Her sudden stiffening in his easy embrace told him it had worked. The only thing remaining now was whether she would face up to it, which, knowing her….she wouldn’t. She would close up, a standard tactic of hers.

“I assure you T’Challa or his proposal has got nothing to do with this,” even as she spoke, she could see the smirk forming on his face, the smirk that said just one thing, you are bluffing and I know it.
“Stormy, Remy knows dat your know that the Panther’s not da man he’s talking about,” Remy whispered softly. “He also know who da other man is.”

“I don’t…” she tried to deny it again, trailing off midway. “There is no other man.”
“Whatever you say padnat,” Remy’s gloved hand reached into his coat pocket, drawing out a small piece of paper.

--

Reaching for her shaking hand, his voice a murmur, just loud enough for the two of them, he spoke, his fist opening up into her palm.

“Remy’s always ‘ere for you. Whenever you wanna talk….always. But he also know dat he’s not da man you wanna talk to….not dis time. Here,” the paper transferred into her hands.

“What is this?” She looked up at him, starting to open the folded note.
“No, not yet,” he lay a stilling hand. “After Remy goes, den you read dis.”

“Remy…” she didn’t know what to say to him. On one hand, she wanted to tell him everything. About what happened in Africa, about her insecurities, about her indecisiveness about the marriage proposal, about the heart she had broken….heart of one of her dearest and oldest friends. Everything. But she couldn’t….not because she feared how her ex-partner in crime would judge her, but because he knew that he wouldn’t. He would support her, no matter what….and that made him subjective.

She could only talk to two people….one a person who was removed from all this, or two, the other person who was at root of this.

She had to make a decision.

-----

Lost in her thoughts, she missed when the silent Cajun slipped away, leaving her alone, a note of paper grasped in her right hand.

Almost not wanting to see what the note said, she steeled herself to open it…..and read it.

Inside was just one line….an address.

Logan’s address.


Note: I had initially planned on things working out in the end. However, having read the previews of B.P. (14-18) and the upcoming Storm miniseries (1-6), I am not so sure.

Marvel says that in July 2006 there is going to be an event that will shake the Marvel Universe. Both B.P. and Storm series hint at this. Also, they have been playing up their supposed romance....and T'Challa is loooking for a wife (int the #14-#18 arc). So, one can only guess that they are planning to get them two together, especially when they are playing the whole two biggest African heroes' card in Storm's miniseries.

If that happens, I am sorry to say I'll stop any X-Men fics from that particular universe...involving any events after that upcoming July 2006 events. I'll be focusing on the other Universes, which seeing that the 616 universe is the largest, doesn't leave a lot to work with.

The Ultimate X-Men series had shown some promise, however, even they had kind of lost steam, with the previews of #67 saying that some romances frizzle out. #66 has Scooter n' Jean kissing on the cover, Kitty is with Spidey, Iceboy back with Rogue....leaving only 'Ro and Logan.

Enough with the ranting....let me get back to writing....as long as I find the inspiration to do it.

Hmph....Review if you wanna!!





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