Disclaimer: I own nothing and no one

Anyway, now that that is settled

Greetings from Morocco

Honestly, I had hoped to have this up before I left the States

But well, such is life. Sorry for the wait.

Chapter Six

Remy's timing had been far better than anyone, even he, could have imagined. He had not even cleared the confines of the compound when the mother of all distractions arrived. The X-men. As usual when it involved Sinister, the group was not happy.

The thief didn't know what had prompted this visit, nor did he especially care. After all, it had been made abundantly clear to him that he was no longer one of them. In truth, the only thing Gambit cared about was finishing his escape. Preferably without attracting the notice of either party.

As the battle raged below him, a single slender figure remained in his position, not daring to move so much as a single muscle. He prayed that no one would look up. Although, being in the shadows as he was, Remy doubted anyone would see him if they did. Given the people involved, the ceiling collapsing was probably the greater concern.

Gambit let out a slow, silent breath as the battle moved on. Despite the burning in arms atrophied from weeks of forced inactivity, he waited a few more precious moments before dropping noiselessly to the floor. Every good thief knew when to make an exit, and it was time and past to skedaddle.

In one of life's little coincidences, a group of the Marauders and X-men found themselves in front of Gambit's former cell. One of the group couldn't help but notice just how nervous that seemed to make their opponents.

Wolverine's claws came out with an audible snikt. "What's behind the door bub?" A hint of spice in the air was driving the feral mutant's senses crazy. He knew he should know that scent. But it was too faint, there was too much blood in the air.

A sneer crossed Scalphunter's face at the words. "Nothing you would care about X-man," he turned the title into an insult. He and Remy had more than their fair share of differences, but they had been friends once. And he was not happy about how the other team had treated the thief.

At least they had bothered to patch Remy up after nearly killing him. Besides which, getting slashed by Creed's claws was a way faster way to go than freezing. Like anyone who spent any time at all around Mr. Sinister, Scalphunter knew that hell wasn't warm. It was cold, very cold.

Wolverine shared a glance with his comrades, unconvinced. "I think we'll be the judge of that." A telekinetic shove by Phoenix flipped open the small panel, reconnecting the room with the outside world.

However, the voice that emerged was not the one the Marauders were expecting. "Let me out of here!" Arclight screamed, banging on the wall in spite of how useless she knew it was. She was going to castrate that stupid thief.

Rouge smirked. "I guess you were right sugar," the southerner drawled. "We really don't care."

The Marauders on the other hand looked faintly ill. "The boss," Vertigo announced at last. "Is not going to be happy." If anything, that was an understatement. Sinister might just kill them all when he got back. He'd make them remember it too.

Scalphunter forced a laugh, mentally taking back everything he had thought about Remy mere moments before. "Maybe he won't be so upset," he tried to convince both himself and the others. "I mean, it's not like this is the first time. Right?"

"And at least this time Gambit didn't blow up the base," another put in hopefully. On that occasion there hadn't been a single piece of rubble in sight bigger than a man's hand.

This however caused the faces of the X-men to fall. More than one of them looking at Rouge accusingly. She had said Remy was dead. Obviously there was a great deal she hadn't said.

Unluckily for both groups, the Cajun wasn't quite done. A mile down the road Gambit smirked, exhaling a long plume of smoke from the cigarette he had lit with the brush of one hand. He looked like nothing so much as a large panther as he lounged on the motorcycle he had, shall we say borrowed.

Red on black eyes flashed, Remy's smirk only widening as he regarded the long line of gasoline that stretched all the way back to Essex's munitions room. Really, you would think his Father would know better by now. He took on last draw on the cig before snickering.

The thief had always wanted to say this, but a proper opportunity had never before presented itself. "Hasta la vista baby," Gambit drawled in his best Arnold Swartzenager voice. He flicked the lit cigarette into the gas, kicking the cycle into high gear as the line of flame raced back from where he had come. His wild laugh lingering in the air long after he had disappeared from view.

Omake

"What do you mean he stole my motorcycle!!!"

Finis

Note: feel obligated to point out I strongly disapprove of smoking. Remy Lebeau is a fictional character. He doesn't have to worry about lung cancer. You do.

Thought about there being an epilogue, but decided against it. It's a given that Gambit will have to come to terms with his experience. Not just Sinister but also being left to die. He was sort of repressing during this story because he couldn't afford to break down.

I figure he will manage to make it through. It is just a couple more nightmares added to a lifetime of nightmares. Would make a great fic now that I think about it. Simply didn't fit in with the tone of this one.

Hope you enjoyed Double or Nothing as much as I did.

My next creation will be up as soon as I can manage.

And find a place with internet. Pretty much decided on what it will be

But would welcome any thoughts you may have for the fic after that.

Remember, my plunnies are posted under "Scribbles & Scratches"