Story title: Gambit and Endgame

Always Remember: This is AU for both Torchwood and X-Men, especially X-Men so I've taken quite a few liberties—with Gambit's youth mainly. So suspend your disbelief and a lot of what you've read in comics or seen on TV. Though there are times when I use aspects of each so it's not unrecognisable.

Disclaimer: What's the point of these? We all know it's fanfiction.

A/N: For those of you that might be new, in this particular universe I've made Gambit swing both ways just to warn you. I think he could be the type to be attracted to anyone who's pretty enough.

Pairings in this story will be: Ianto/OMC, Ianto/Lisa (at some point and for a brief time), Remy/OMC, Remy/Rogue (non sexual but that may change *nudge, nudge, wink, wink*), Jean/Scott, eventual Ianto/Jack (we will get there, I promise)

There used to be a prologue but after awhile it just stopped making sense so I deleted it. Sorry for any confusion for anyone who might be re-reading this.

"City Streets"

Ianto

I was about fourteen when I first started hearing voices. At first I thought I might be schizophrenic but the voices wouldn't shut up. Eventually I caught on that they were the thoughts of others but I didn't think I was a mutant. I just couldn't be so I convinced myself I was crazy. It was when I had a vision of my father dying and it came true the next day I began to think otherwise. I'd had a bad feeling all day, like the feeling you get before your parents see a particularly bad report card only a hundred times worse. It was about a month away from my fifteenth birthday when he died of a heart attack. It was a heart attack in my vision, there was nothing I could do. I ran off before they could stick me in foster care, I was an only child, my grandparents were dead and I had no idea where my mother was—she'd left us when I was a baby.

So I took to the streets, doing whatever I needed to survive and doing what I could to block others' thoughts. I began stealing, shoplifting and pick pocketing, which quickly became my specialty. I tried to take only from people who looked like they could afford it but sometimes I had no choice. However, I never took from anyone who looked worse off than me.

It was still hard to shut up the voices so I did the only thing I could think of; I started doing drugs. Stupid I know, but snorting cocaine every couple of days helped. Unfortunately, it was an expensive habit. One day I needed a fix but I was out of money so I went looking for someone to 'borrow' from. After about an hour of searching I'd thought I'd found the perfect victim. He looked like a tourist because it seemed like he didn't know where he was going. Tourists are the perfect victims because they're usually so absorbed in looking at the sights that they don't pay attention to their pockets. This man was, I couldn't help but notice, incredibly good looking; his brown hair was tied back and his green t-shirt was tightly stretched over muscle. He could likely beat me to a pulp if he caught me but I didn't think he'd catch me. What did I know?

I snuck up behind him and reached for what was obviously a billfold in his back pocket. He whipped around and grabbed my wrist so quickly I didn't even have time to be startled.

With his free hand he removed his sunglasses revealing the creepiest eyes I'd ever seen, black on red on black "Now, jus' what do you t'ink you're doin' boy?" he had an amused smile on his lips.

Having never been caught before I had no idea what to do or say but he continued speaking, "Wouldn't do you no good anyhow, I ain't changed my money yet. Now, what you got to say for yerself?"

I was so captivated by his eyes and accent (the likes of which I'd never heard before) I couldn't answer. I just stared at him, gapping I'm pretty sure like a fish.

Suddenly there was an explosion on the other side of the city, he looked in its direction but kept his grip on me. He looked back and forth between me and the direction of the explosion for several moments before sighing and releasing me "I strongly sugges' you stay here 'cause if you run off, I guarantee I will find you, Ianto Jones" with that he ran towards the explosion.

The spell he had over me was broken and I took off in the opposite direction, not really caring how he knew my name. I still needed money though and I wasn't thinking. I decided to do the one thing I swore I wouldn't do unless I had no other choice.

Remy

I hadn't wanted to go mutant recruiting—no where in my contract did it say I ever had to do that. Okay, I don't have a contract but that's beside the point. I'd never recruited anyone to the school before, the Professor had never asked but there's a first time for everything I reckon. With Cerebro the Professor had learned that this new mutant in the UK in addition to being telepathic had kinetic powers like me but his weren't developed yet. That was one reason Prof X asked me to go and collect him, this Ianto Jones. The other reason was that this boy was a pick pocket and had the potential to turn into a Welsh version of me. Apparently that wasn't a good thing. I still don't see why.

As soon as I got to Cardiff I started looking for the boy before I even changed my money. Part of the plan, you see. Before leaving New York I researched the most likely places for pick pockets to work—I'm not as lazy as I pretend to be—and knew that the pickings would be slim for a young one. So, I went with a hunch and looked along streets where tourists weren't common. Jean-Luc taught me to enjoy a challenge—tourists were too damn easy but the natives knew the risks and took extra precaution. Unless it was Mardi Gras in Nawlins in which case extra precaution was pretty much useless because the streets were so jammed anyway.

I figured that if this boy really was a mini Welsh me then he'd enjoy a challenge too. I spotted Ianto after about an hour of looking. He didn't see me see him though. Most tourists aren't a challenge but if they look like they can beat you up…So, I did my best to look distracted and sure enough the boy went for my wallet. I caught him of course—you can't steal from Jean-Luc Lebeau's best student. Well, you can't.

I was about to tell him about Professor Xavier and the school and everything when we heard that explosion. It sounded like it came from the other side of the city. I looked between the direction it came from and Ianto several times before I decided to see if I could help. Damn X-Men morality, it gets under your skin. I told Ianto to stay there and then took off. He wouldn't listen, I knew that, I had been a teenager myself not too long ago and I knew how they thought. Except girls that is, never could understand teenage girls.

By the time I got to the spot of the explosion it was already blocked off by police tape and cars. I blended in with other onlookers as I inched my way closer. The police it seemed were being sent away and they looked none too happy about it. I heard one of them mutter 'bloody Torchwood'.

Torch wood? I thought, what did torch wood have to do with anything? And why would anyone need it in the city? I have this aversion to cops—sort of ingrained in my brain though I don't have a record myself—so I asked one of the civilians. A woman of course.

"Pardon," I made sure to sound my most Cajun "what does torch wood have to do with anythin'?"

"Beats me," she said after a moment of drooling over me "I guess they need special ops for this."

Special ops? Oh, so it had nothing to do with wood used to make a torch, "It's special ops? So it's one word?"

"Yeah, coppers hate them, always mucking things up I hear."

I kissed her hand "Merci, mademoiselle." I took off before she could give me her number; sadly I had more important things to do. C'est la vie. I could have gone to find Ianto then but curiosity got the better of me and I snuck around to get a closer look at this 'Torchwood'. I'm always interested in things cops don't like.

I watched from the roof of the closest building, a small group of people was standing around a smouldering hole in the pavement. One of them for some reason was dressed like it was WWII. So I know a few things about fashion through the decades, I was bored one day. Nice coat though, Royal Air Force issue. I knew this because Xavier had a picture of an old friend wearing one.

The guy down on the ground, I just noticed looked just like that picture. Hmm, weird. Either a relative or he had healing powers like Wolverine. Of course Xavier had said that his friend had been wearing his father's coat and…I shook my head and focused on the group's conversation.

"It's a hole, Alex" said the WWII wannabe. I was surprised to hear an American accent.

"Yes, thank you Captain Obvious," retorted Alex "I see that. It's what's in it that we don't know."

I saw the inside of the hole. "It looks like a rock to me" I said and then leaped down to the ground. The building was only two stories but I think I impressed them. I got a closer look, "alien, right? I've met aliens. De name's Gambit" I said to their shocked and questioning faces "In fact my friend—well, he's not really my friend, but his daddy's a space pirate."

Mr WWII was the first to recover "Who the hell are you?"

"Thought I said? Maybe I should specify; de name's Gambit" I removed my sunglasses "an' I'm wit' the X-Men."

"The X-Men?" blinked Alex "what are the X-Men doing in Cardiff?"

"Just me I'm afraid. So, I'm guessing you guys deal with stuff les policier stupide don't know how to handle."

Nice Coat grabbed my arm "What are you doing here?" Never grab my arm.

I flipped him to the ground. Didn't care how handsome he was, do not grab me in a threatening manner while sounding like an authority figure. Unless you're Wolverine, he gets away with it because he has sharp claws.

His friends all pulled out guns and trained them on me. I hate guns. "Look, je suis désole for intruding on your little party but I wanted to see what the commotion was about. I'm here to collect one of your wayward young mutants before he gets hisself into the wrong crowd." I saw the sun was setting "now, I better go find him. Au revoir." I reached for my staff and they started firing but I was too quick. I leaped up to the building and free ran out of their range. I ain't ever been shot by the way; Remy knows how to dodge bullets.

It took me some time to track Ianto down, not knowing the city hampered me somewhat. That and I had to change my money and get a motel room. And get some food ready. The boy from what Xavier had discovered was orphaned and homeless—occasionally staying at church shelters. I guess that was another reason he sent me—I was once lost and alone.

I found out that Ianto had a cocaine habit. I guessed he needed a fix and that was why he had tried to rob me. Now, if I needed money and needed it quick and couldn't find a pocket to pick, what would I do? If I were fifteen, homeless and really addicted to cocaine? The answer disgusted me. I would never charge people to enjoy me but I guess some folks got desperate. I found out where people of that profession sold their wares and made my way down there. I had put on my coat—for late August it was pretty damn cold. To me anyway. I was searching for Ianto by rooftop, more of a view that way when I saw him being chased by a fat man that could give the Blob a run for his money. I watched for a moment to see if Ianto could outrun him (which should have been easy) but Ianto ran himself into an alley and Blob's homosexual twin cornered him. Ianto seemed frozen in fear. It was then I took action.

Ianto

I had changed into a tighter t-shirt and tighter jeans and went to the part of town where the male prostitutes did their business. I'd never done it before, never even had sex so I had no idea what to do. I figured I could just stand somewhere and look alluring till someone approached me. It was well after sunset when someone finally did. He was a big bloke, calling him a pig would be insulting pigs. He asked me how much I charged but I panicked. I changed my mind and ran, he chased after me. He cornered me in an alley and grabbed me, ripping the button off my jeans. I was so scared I couldn't move so I prepared myself to take it, I just hoped he wouldn't kill me in the process.

Right then, something landed directly next to us. In the dim light I recognised him as the man I had tried to rob earlier only now his eyes were glowing red, he was wearing a long coat and holding a big stick.

"Pardon, monsieur but I believe what yer doin' is illegal" he then whacked my attacker on the head with his stick. The big man went down instantly. My saviour then bent down and checked the other man's pulse "Good, it'd 'ave been a hell of a mess if I killed him" he stood up and looked at me "By de way, de name's Gambit. I told you I'd find you" he came closer to me and looked me up and down "Boy, I get the stealin', I been there myself, but drugs and dis?" he indicated the man on the ground "I ain't ever been dat desperate. You all right?"

I fainted then. It's weird, fainting and rather scary if you ask me. I felt myself falling, falling down a deep dark pit and in the distance I swear I saw a tiny speck of light. When I hit the ground, it felt as if my brain was being thrown against the inside of my skull.

When I came around, the first thing I noticed was that there was something cold and wet on my forehead. I sat up quickly and threw it off me.

"Relax" said a voice to my left "it's a washcloth not a slug."

I turned in that direction and saw Gambit sitting on a window sill with a cigarette. I was sitting on a bed and I figured we must be in some sort of motel room. I put a hand to my head which was pounding like a jackhammer at an ungodly hour of the morning "What happened?" I asked wearily.

Gambit put out his cigarette in an ash try that was sitting on the sill, "You fainted" in the dim light of the room, his eyes glowed.

"I figured. Are you aware your eyes are glowing?"

He smirked "Oui, do you want the lights on? I don' t'ink dey'll do your headache much good."

"Perhaps not. Who are you then? What do you want with me?"

"I'm Gambit an' I'm wit' de X-Men."

The X-Men? I had heard of them, mutants who fought for the greater good, saved lives and on more than one occasion saved the world from especially evil mutants. Professor Charles Xavier was in charge of them, a known telepath and the world's top supporter of mutant/regular human understanding.

"What do the X-Men want with me?"

Gambit turned on the bedside lamp, taking the glow away from his eyes "Garçon, you a mutant and Professor Xavier is offering you a place at 'is school."

I crossed my arms "What makes you think I'm a mutant and how did you know my name?"

Gambit rolled his eyes and I could tell that he did not want the job of 'mutant recruiter' "Les' jus' say dat de Professor has a machine dat can detect mutants an' their names."

"Let's say that I believe you…"

"You're telepathic, you know I ain't lyin.'"

I sighed and finally resigned myself to the fact that I was indeed a mutant "Fine, I'm a mutant, I'm telepathic and I get visions and I can tell you don't want to be here so why did Professor Xavier send you?"

"I don' know, jus' be glad he didn't send Wolverine. Look, you don' hafta decide anythin' tonight. I'm gonna help you wit' your drug problem firs'. I talked to de Professor while you was out."

"I don't have a drug problem."

"Yes you do."

"No I don't."

"Yes, you—don' argue wit' me, boy."

I stood up.

So did he and he put a hand on my shoulder before I could go any further "Where you t'ink you're goin'?"

I glared at him "To the loo, is that all right?"

He removed his hand "Sorry, go on den."

I stepped into the en-suite bathroom and made use of it. Afterwards, I splashed water on my face and gathered my thoughts. I decided that I would go with him to the school but I wouldn't tell him just yet. I would get more information first. When I came out of the bathroom he was smoking again.

"Are fags even allowed in here?"

He choked on a puff of smoke "Wha—what? I'm not…"

"I meant cigarettes" I rolled my eyes "you must be American."

"Oh" his face turned red "right, well I imagine dat any motel room dat provides an ash tray allows smokin'. An' I prefer to t'ink o' myself as Cajun firs', American second."

I sat back on the bed "So you're from New Orleans?"

He sighed "Why do foreigners always seem to t'ink dat Nawlins is de only city in Louisiana dat Cajuns live in? But as it happens, yes I am."

"So then, Gambit, tell me about this school."