X-Men Fan Fiction ❯ The Angel's Gift ❯ Ch 4 ( Chapter 4 )

Title: The Angel's Gift, ch 4
Author: Jukebox
Pairing: Remy/Secret Santa
Rating: PG-13
Feedback: Always appreciated
Archive: If you think it's worthy, then absolutely. Permission
granted. Just let me know where so my fragile ego will be stroked.

Disclaimers: I don't own any of these characters.  Didn't ya know they belong to Stan Lee?  Now that's a man with a truly brilliant imagination!  And, I usually think poorly of my own writing, so I'll never make money off of this or any others like it that I write.

Summary: Gambit doesn't see what's so special about Christmas, especially when Rogue is sent away on secret mission. But the others and a secret Santa are going to try to help.

Warnings: I don't know French or Cajun French, so my apologies to people of those areas if I butchered the language in this fic. If I put any in this fic, it came from online translators and LA library archives. Last, but not least - there are thousands upon thousands of X-men fics on the internet. So if this one resembles another you've read, it's purely oincidental. But, let me know who & what so I can go check it out for myself to see. If I see it's real similar, I'll write that author and offer him/her condolences for having a mind like mine.

Few little notes: 

~ represents telepathy

italics represent thoughts

CH 4

Walking down the isles of the supermarket, Jean hummed along with the Christmas music playing overhead.  Remy was pushing one cart behind while she and Storm scoured both sides of the isle ahead.  He wasn't exactly a fountain of conversation as he dragged along behind them.  Neither lady let this deter them from the holiday spirit they were determined to share.

"So, brother, what dish would you like served at our feast?  Everyone is allowed one favorite."  Storm asked as she brought over a couple of cans to place in the cart.

"Don't care Stormy.  Whatever y'all want to serve be fine wit' me."  Gambit shrugged as he stared down into the cart, leaning heavily on his elbows and forearms that were crossed over the handle of the buggy. 

She arched an elegant brow his direction and scolded him with her eyes.  Jean walked up and dropped another couple of cans in before joining the white haired weather goddess in the conversation.  "C'mon Remy.  Surely you have something you like that we can cook for you?  What was one of your favorites served at Christmas when you were younger?"

He slowly turned his eyes to her and stared for a moment, carefully choosing his words.  With a sad smile he replied, "Never had a Christmas feast before, chere.  Dis be de first."  Sensing their emotional change from happy to sorrow, he quickly flashed his trademark grin and added "But I always been partial to gumbo.  We get de ingredients and I make it."

The ladies exchanged glances but didn't push.  Rather they both smiled at him and continued up the isle.

************

After returning to the mansion and helping the ladies put up the groceries, Remy excused himself to retire to his room.  He still felt terrible and decided to get in a quick afternoon nap before his turn on monitor duty.  As he approached his door, there was a note taped to it.  He cocked his head in question and pulled it off to read.

         &nb sp;  Devil eyes and angel face

            You don't have to be alone

            Let me take you to a pleasure place

         &nb sp;  To make you scream and moan

            Kisses from your secret Santa

He blinked a few times and then looked all around him to see if anyone was lurking.  He read the note again and racked his brain as to who may have left it.  Then he closed his eyes.  "Drake" he snorted to himself as he crumpled the note in his hand.  "Very funny Bobby" he said bitterly and moved swiftly into his room to avoid any possible laughter that may suddenly spring up from the shadows of the hall. 

After awhile, having failed to get any sleep, he emerged from his room and headed downstairs.  He was on his way to the lower depths of the mansion to take over monitor duty from Cyclops when Logan called out to him from the rec room.  "Hey Gumbo!  Did ya get that message I taped to your door?"

"Hehn?"  Remy stopped mid stride and back tracked to the entrance of the room.

"That message I taped to your door.  Did ya get it?  Some woman left it for ya."  Wolverine's back was to him as he flipped through the channels on the television.

"Yeh.  How you know it was a woman?  You see her?  I t'ought it was a joke from Bobby."  Gambit was really confused and started scanning his memories to see who would have left him a poem like that.

"Cause I took the message from her on the phone.  Damn she sounded hot.  And that message was pretty…." Logan whistled the ending to that sentence.  "Who is she and when did ya meet her?"

"I dunno Wolverine.  I don't remember meeting any woman.  Unless last night at de bar?"

"Ya met a lot of women last night at the bar.  But, ya didn't make out with any of them as far as I recall."  Wolverine slowly turned to face the younger mutant.  "Ya do anything to hurt Rogue and I'll hurt ya."  As if to emphasize his point, he extended his middle claw in Gambit's direction.

Remy flinched slightly at the slicing sound the blade made as it popped out and then looked into Logan's eyes to see the truth behind the threat.  "Non, would never do anyt'ing to hurt Rogue. Dis just one of Bobby's jokes."  With that, he turned and fled the room resuming his course towards monitor duty.  Wolverine smirked and turned back toward the television.

Cyclops stood up from the monitors as Remy walked in.  "Late as usual LeBeau" he said with a frown.

Remy shrugged it off.  "Got held up talking to Wolverine.  Sorry, mon ami." 

"Don't let it happen again.  Hank will be here in four hours to relieve you."  After barking out the order, Cyclops dismissed himself and left Remy rolling his eyes.  Gambit plopped himself in the chair and lifted his feet up, ankles crossing.  With one hand to his temple he started filtering through the monitors.  Oh yeah, dis gonna be a great holiday he thought sarcastically.