Mr. Bad Example
A Collection of Vignettes
By Kayleespade
All Standard Disclaimers Apply: I do not own the X-Men or anything associated with it. This story is loosely based on a song with the same title by Warren Zevon.
I. Pride
II. Envy
III. Gluttony
IV. Lust
V. Anger
VI. Greed
VII. Sloth
"I'm very well acquainted with the seven deadly sins,
I keep a busy schedule tryin' to fit them all in!" – Warren Zevon
Raised as a Catholic boy in the heart of the Deep South, Remy had been warned against the seven deadly sins. He was taught the value of patience, modesty, and moderation, but unfortunately Remy was never a good student. Jean-Luc often engaged his sons in less autistic endeavors, but always insisted they each go to confession to purge their souls. Every week, the family priest would cringe as the boys tried to outdo one another, shocking the poor man more with every word.
Pride is excessive belief in one's own abilities. It has been called the sin from which all others arise, so that is where Remy's story will begin.
I. Pride
It was dark, but that's how he liked it.
Eyeing a window on the second floor left slightly ajar, Remy vaulted into the air and landed on the ledge. Dieu. Why are ledges always so narrow, he grumbled to himself. Silently slipping into the widow, he inched his way across the room and began his search.
Coming to the central gallery, he spotted his prize and his breath hitched. Magnifique! He knelt, removed a small cylinder from his jacket, and sprayed a soft mist into the room. Lasers…how typical! He stood casually and stretched. Slowly bending his body and holding his breath, Remy glided through the network of beams and triggers with an unnatural ease. With a satisfied smirk on his face, he paused in front of the glass case.
It was truly a masterpiece. One of a kind. The one thing he wanted more than any other. Just as he was about to reach out and remove the precious item from its case, a voice rang out in the darkness.
"Computer, end simulation."
The lights came on as the gallery's walls morphed into the sterile, steel of the Danger Room.
"Dieu! What are y' doin', Mr. Loup Garoup? Remy was dis close t' getting' what he wanted!" Remy yelled as he shoved Logan back against the wall.
Straightening himself, Logan glared at the Cajun. Damn. He hated having to look up at the kid. "Sorry, Gumbo, but I don't think Charles would appreciate y' usin' the Danger Room to work on yer thievin' skills. 'Sides, I don't like the idea of y' swipin' a portrait of Stripes."
Grinning, Remy twirled his bow staff in his hand. "Remy don't need practice, old man. He's de best t'ief in de world."
"Cocky, aren't y'?"
The staff suddenly contracted and disappeared into a hidden pocket. "Hehn…and dis is from de man who says he's de best at what he does?"
Logan smirked. "Yeah, well…personally, kid, I doubt y' could steal from a blind man."
"Maybe, mais…" Remy slid past Logan. "Tue s aveugle."
Blinking, Logan spun around as Remy walked out of the room. "What the hell does that mean?" he shouted.
Shrugging, Remy cast Logan a sly grin over his shoulder and disappeared into the locker room.
Growling to himself, Logan pushed his hands into his pockets and began storming toward the elevator. Wait. Nothing but lint. "Gumbo!"
II. Envy
Remy was furious.
Lining up a shot at the pool table, he caught another glimpse of Bobby inching closer to Rogue as they sat on the sofa watching a movie. After Remy missed his third shot of the evening, Logan shook his head and took his turn.
"Snap out of it, Gumbo. It's not like y' to be this sloppy."
"Sorry, mon ami." Remy said, and tried to concentrate on his game instead of Rogue and Bobby…No, he needed to be focused. Centered.
Logan missed his next shot and Remy took control. Just as he was about to shoot, the sweet sound of southern laughter caught his attention. Grinding his teeth, Remy saw Bobby leaning in close and whispering in her ear. Then Bobby sat back and stretched his arm out over her shoulders.
Logan's brows shot up as Remy took aim on the eight ball. "Uh…kid, y' know that's not the right ball, right?"
Ignoring the question, Remy struck the ball. It leapt off the table and went flying across the room.
"Ouch! Hey, man! Watch it!" Bobby yelled, as he rubbed the back of his head.
Rogue turned to glare at Remy, who only shrugged.
III. Gluttony
"Really, man?" Bobby watched wide-eyed as Remy downed another shot of the amber fluid, trying to remember what exactly brought them here.
"Oui," Remy leaned back in the chair with a grin tugging at his lips.
Bobby blinked his eyes. When did the room start spinning? "No way…"
"Oy, mate! Believe it."
Bobby's head spun around the room looking for the source of the other voice. Peeking under the table, he saw John sprawled out with his arm over his forehead. "What are you doing down there?"
John groaned.
Remy poured another shot and pushed it toward Bobby. "Your turn, mon ami."
Sitting back up, Bobby cautiously eyed the glass with an expression one might use if being propositioned by a man dressed in drag, wearing a single red stiletto. "Uhh…how many is this now?"
"Hmmm…" Remy's brow arched as he counted the empty glasses and bottles. "Remy t'inks dis makes fifteen f'r him. Y' need t' catch up."
Sighing, Bobby lifted the glass with a trembling hand. The liquid burned his throat as it went down, dulling his vision even more. Swaying a bit in the chair, the room turned black.
Laughter broke out from under the small table. "Oh, mate…remind me never to make you bloody angry."
Remy smirked and poured another shot of scotch. "Boy jus' can't hold his liquor, non?"
IV. Lust
"Y' feel wonderful, chere." Remy whispered as he ran his hand down her warm back. His breath tickled the skin along her neck and sent shivers through her.
Rogue attempted to ignore him, but her rebellious body refused to listen. How much longer would they be here…an hour, maybe two? Gawd, no! Up until a few minutes ago, she had been successful in avoiding temptation. But now…she was trapped.
"Keep your paws tah yourself, swamprat!" She bit out as she tried to push herself away from him, but only managed to rub up against him more as she struggled. This was not good!
Trying to relax, she took a deep breath. Damn, but he smells good! No! She did not need to think about that right now. She needed distance. She needed air. She needed… "What kind of cologne is that?"
Arching his brow, Remy smiled up at her. "Remy doesn't wear cologne."
Unbelievable. No one can just smell that good.
"Chere?"
"Yeah?"
He swallowed hard, "T'ink y' could move y'r knee?"
Rogue flushed. "Sorry, darlin'." She said, gently lifting her leg away from his thigh.
Rubbing small circles in her back, Remy sighed. "Remy never said he didn't like it." Moving slowly, he arched his body, pressing it into hers. "Jus' liked it too much."
Oh! Not good…not good at all!
Rogue forced herself to breathe. She couldn't let him get to her. She had to avoid this attraction. "Cool it, swamprat!" she snorted. "Can't ya do somethin' constructive, like get us outta here? You're a thief after all! Can't ya pick the lock?"
"Oui, comes wit' de territory." His eyes narrowed with a predatory sort of precision. His mouth crooked with a predatory sort of grin. "And Remy's very good at what he does."
"Well?"
"De lock's on de outside, chere. Remy's good…very good, but he's not a magician."
Ohhh, this was going to be a long day!
Her arms were getting weak from holding herself up. She really just wanted to rest, but that would mean allowing herself to lay on top of him. And she did not want to do that!
"What's de frown f'r?"
She looked down into his eyes at his question and frowned. "Ah'm not frownin'."
Remy responded to her denial with a bold arch of his brow. God, she hated when he did that!
"Okay. Ah'm frownin'. But only because ya said Ah was." Yes. That made a world of sense. But that was certainly better than admitting what was bothering her.
Noticing her arms trembling, Remy wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer to him. "Relax, chere."
Finally giving in, she rested her head on his shoulder. They remained like that, close and intimate, for a long time. Until there was a noise above them. With a familiar snkt, a creaking of a hinge, and a burst of light, they were free.
Rogue felt a firm hand grab the back of her uniform and pull her forcibly from Remy's arms. "Thanks, Logan. Ah was beginnin' tah wonder if we'd ever get out."
Logan put her gently on the ground, before reaching down through the trap door again, retrieving the Cajun. "What do y' think you were doin', Gumbo?"
Rubbing his neck where Logan had not-so-gently grabbed him, Remy glared at the older man. "Remy didn't do anythin'!"
"Right…come on, Stripes, the team's waitin' outside. Next time…be more careful."
As they left the abandoned lab, Rogue looked over her shoulder back towards Remy. She tried her best to suppress a small smile when he gave her a wink. Maybe being trapped hadn't been that bad after all.
V. Anger
"Chere!"
The world slowed down. Everything seemed to move in slow motion as Gambit tried to force his way through the battlefield, through the bodies to get to Rogue. He watched, helpless, as a blast struck her in the back. She fell hard onto the ground, crashing down from over forty feet in the air.
By the time he reached her, she was unconscious, defenseless, broken.
A rage exploded through him.
A kinetic charge electrified the air, popping and crackling with its intensity.
A magenta glow followed by a resonating explosion.
When the smoke cleared, eight sentinels were down. Blown apart. The other x-men dusted the debris from their uniforms and stared at him in shock. No one had known. He had hidden it well, until today. Until they hurt her. No one would hurt her again.
VI. Greed
Lady Luck was in love with him. No doubt.
Looking over the beautiful ladies she had graced him with this evening, Remy beamed inwardly, but kept his rigid poker face. He was unreadable…always was and always will be.
"In or out, homme?"
Logan chewed on the end of his cigar, considering his chances. The kid had been hot all night, but his luck had to change…right? No one is that good. "I'm in. Lay 'em down, kid."
With one fluid motion, Remy placed the four queens on the table. "So, Logan, will de four lovely ladies bring Remy de pot?"
Logan's jaw dropped, the cigar fell onto the table. Not again. Throwing his cards down, he pushed his chair out and stormed from the room muttering something about 'Gumbo', a 'damn kid', and 'no good Cajuns'.
Remy was pocketing his winnings when Rogue entered. "What did yah do this time, sugah? Ah just passed Logan in the hall makin' some interestin' changes to the decoration."
"Remy wouldn't know, chere. Jus' playin' a friendly game o' Poker." He motioned for her to sit. "Care t' play?"
Rogue sat, but shook her head. "Sorry, darlin', but Ah don't have any money on meh tonight."
The corner of his mouth turned upward in a wicked grin. "Dat's okay, chere. Remy doesn't always play f'r money."
VII. Sloth
Knock, knock, knock
"Gambit!" Scott yelled. "I know you're in there. Open this door, now!"
Moaning, Remy pulled the covers over his head and buried his face deeper into his pillow. Damn…Feels like God's stomping 'round in my head. Why did he think drinking a bottle of champagne was a good idea?
"Gambit!"
Scott was about to knock again when he noticed the door glowing. Shit. "Fine, have it your way! I'll just let Logan have a few hours alone with you in the Danger Room when you get up."
Drawing the charge back in, Remy sighed. That's supposed to motivate someone to get out of bed? Remy hopes dat de Wolverine doesn't mind late night sessions, den. Settling back into the covers, Remy drifted back off to sleep. Maybe he'll get up for dinner. Maybe.
A/N: I give some of the translations of the less common French below. If you haven't ever heard 'Mr. Bad Example' by Warren Zevon, you should do so. I've always thought of it as a theme song for our notorious Cajun thief.
Loup Garoup werewolf
Tue s aveugle you're blind