Chapter One

Travis stared emptily out from a park bench. From where she sat, she had a good view of the small park and the winding path that hid itself amongst the trees. The crispness of the Autumn season invaded her senses. The foliage was in the middle of their transformation which gave the trees around her a colourful and schizophrenic personality. A cool breeze whistled lightly through and the few leaves on the ground played amongst it.

The picturesque nature this was lost on the small and somewhat stocky 5'3 girl.

However hard she tried, her memory was a complete blank. The last thing she remembered was that she had went to bed after a rather uneventful day as a historical research assistant at the local university, in the middle of winter. From the dropping foliage around her, she calculated that at least eight months of her life were missing. She woke up on this park bench with nothing but her wallet, her mp3 player and the clothes on her back. Thankfully, she was not wearing what she wore to bed because a cold Fall morning in jammies was no way to spend her first coherent and conscious thought in a strange world. Still, the fact that she was here with no recollection of what took place… it terrified her.

Travis exhaled and leaned back to look up at the sky. The clouds drifted by. Everything was so peaceful that it made her sick.

Right. Deep breath.

She needed to figure out what happened to her and the first thing to do was to find out where she was.

With a sharp intake of chilly air, Travis exhaled with resolution. A main street was the key. She hoped that there were shops that provided maps of the city or something similar. A hand ran through her long messy hair before she wiggled her toes in her hiking boots as if the action made everything better. With a heave, she stood up and took a step towards the exit of the park. She had already made up her mind to follow the general direction of cars and hoped it was a friendly city. The last thing she needed was to be mugged, raped, killed, or any combination of those three.

As she walked, the sight that greeted her was that of a bustling suburban town. From the little cheap corner souvenir shops that seemed to exist everywhere these days, Travis managed to find out that she was somewhere in the state of New York. She was not able to pinpoint where because the owner of the store refused to sell her a map on account of her rejected credit card and the lack of American currency on her person. With an irritated scowl, he directed her instead, to the nearest bank and she practically stormed out of the store. With her hands deep in the pockets of her hoodie, she stalked towards the bank in a bad mood.

Yet, with every step she took, disbelief gradually replaced her bad mood. When she finally arrived outside the entrance of the local bank, her head spun from all she had seen.

For one thing, all the local businesses seemed to be a parody of well-known international corporations. Starbucks for example, had its parallel in the coffee company, Coffebucks which seemed to dominate the coffee landscape. She had already passed by several McRonald's to make her sick. What worried her the most were the anti-mutant sentiments that seemed to be graffiti-ed on every abandoned corner or dark alleyway. Though she told herself that it was most likely a slur against homosexuals or some other unfortunate targeted race, doubt chewed on the corner of her mind. With that doubt came that growing sense of disbelief.

It just... seemed too much like a… like a comic book.

It was with some relief when she stepped inside the air-conditioned confines of the bank. At least this place was normal. It smelt like despair and accountants, just like every other bank that she had been in. After she tried accessing her accounts through the machines without much success, she joined the tedious queue for the bank. Much to her chagrin, the teller that received her had the gall to tell her that her credit card company did not exist. VISA was the credit company, there was no way it should suddenly cease to exist. She almost blew up in front of that poor excuse for an accountant if not for the security guards who decided to see her safely to the door.

An hour later, she sat on the same park bench and stared emptily out at the small park with a lingering sense of doom. She had no access to money, she did not know exactly where she was, nor did she know anybody that could possibly help her out of this predicament. After that whole experience, she felt numb with a rare feeling of helplessness. As she sat there and watched the darkening sky with the familiar sinking feeling in her stomach, her ears picked up a slur that made her look up with wide eyes.

"Mutant!"

Her head jerked up and frantically searched for the source of the voice. Human contact! Maybe helpful human contact...

"Get the mutie!" came the yell and what sounded like an echoed roar of a mob.

A blood thirsty mob.

With a curse, she jumped to her feet, much more alert and aware than she had been just seconds ago. The roar did not sound, in any possible way, like a group of helpful people.

Travis stared dumbly as a large group materialized from the winding park path and the sinking feeling she had was soon replaced by a feeling of pure and utter dread. As she watched, from amongst the midst of the mob, a young man with shaggy hair and a trench coat burst out with an amused shout that only seemed to spur the mob on. An explosion of red light followed behind him. The crowd skirted back a little before new cries for blood pushed them forward. Travis swallowed a lump in her throat. No way in hell was she going to be in the warpath of a crazed fanatical mob.

Though the man they chased was slowly putting distance between himself and the mob, she did not wait for the guy to catch up to start running. She immediately took off. This felt like a nightmare. A very tangible and adrenaline-fuelled nightmare complete with an angry mob behind her, the fast darkening path in front and only her tired legs to save her. It was no surprise that the man quickly overtook her and they exchanged looks. His was of complete amusement while hers was of complete terror.

But she almost tripped over herself when she got a good look at his face.

There was only one way to describe his appearance; gorgeous. He had roguish good looks, brown shaggy hair that was messily slicked back into a ponytail, and a smile that could charm the pants off any woman he wanted. But what truly got to her were his eyes. He had demonic eyes; red irises on black...

'Oh gods... this must be what going insane feels like,' Travis thought to herself before she fulfilled her own prophecy and tripped over her own two feet. His hand immediately reached out to grab and steady her.

"Now mabbe not de time to fall for me, eh petite?" the man with a sort of a smirk.

She was not able to answer as her mind had turned into mush when she heard his accent.

"C'mon, take you somewhere safe," he told her as he all but dragged her along. It was no use. By this time, Travis had already gone stiff with shock. He sighed as he paused slightly to pull out a card from the depths of his trenchcoat. The card (2 of diamonds) flared up in a red light before he threw it in the direction of the gaining mob. It flashed once before it exploded at their feet. Again, the mob withdrew slightly before the people at the back pushed through with angry shouts and they surged forward again.

"They non' stop," he said with a shake of his head and a sigh as if his throwaway comment described a bad-tempered child, and efficiently removed the gravity of the situation. At least, for him.

His offhand comment however, was nothing compared to Travis' reaction to the exploding card trick. "HOLY FUCKING SHIT YOU'RE REAL," Travis practically screamed as she stared at him, eyes wide as saucers. He stared back, in some degree of shock himself.

"Great," he muttered under his breath, "'nother crazy one. Remy sure can pick 'em." With that, he shook her aggressively to snap her out of it. This only made her babble some more. Finally, with some degree of exasperation, he simply scooped her up and dashed off. As they neared an alleyway, he turned sharply.

"Hold on petite," he told her and she did as she was told, too dazed to do anything else. Her arms went around his neck and she felt his muscles tensed before he seemed to leap up the building. One minute, they were in the alleyway with a screaming mob, the next, they were on a rooftop with the sounds of the confused mob below them. A hand was clamped over her mouth tightly to warn her against the obvious dangers of making a sound. Too dazed at the developments of her situation, Travis simply sat there and stared at the strange man dumbly. Below them, the sounds of a disappointed chase rang up in the form of garbage can abuse. It was after a while that the mob finally dispersed and it was safe to talk.

The man sighed and glanced back at her. His red on black eyes seemed to glow in the dark, "You non gonna scream if I le' go?"

Travis shook her head and he released her from his gloved hand. Travis licked her dry lips nervously as she stared at the apparition before her.

While the mob attacked the garbage cans, she had quickly developed a plan of action. She needed help… and if he was who she thought he was… and if she was where she thought she was (assuming she wasn't insane)… she was going to need his help.

"May I ask you a question?" she asked tentatively while he stood and checked their surroundings.

"Aw petite, I non' always reveal everythin' on de first date," he answered with a roguish smile in her direction. In any other situation, her female hormonal self would've thrown herself at him. Instead, her desperation leaked through.

"Are you… by any chance… I know it sounds silly and all… but… I mean… do you… go by the name of Gambit?"

He gave a start but quickly recovered, "Gambit must be getting' more famous den he tink." He raised an eyebrow at the strange girl who now sat, with legs sprawled out, on the floor of the rooftop where they took temporary refuge.

"So are you?"

He cocked his head to one side before he squatted down in front of her, "Who wanna know?" Travis' heart thumped against her chest in excitement… there was no way… no way… was there?

"Me?" she offered with a nervous smile. She had no doubt that if he wanted, he could kill her with just his pinkie. He leaned forward slightly to get a good look at her face in the darkening light. In return, she got a good look at his face. He was as he should be. A stubbled square jaw, a sharp nose that made him seem more cunning that he probably was, and a seductively shaped mouth that always seemed to be pulled into a charming smirk. All however, failed in comparison to entrance her… except for his eyes. The demonic red on black combination not only fascinated her but seemed to continually draw her in.

He seemed to be aware of his affect on her since he smiled and got even closer, "And who might you be petite?"

Travis swallowed thickly.

"Urm… A… " she croaked and immediately flushed in embarrassment. When she spotted the amusement in his twinkling eyes, she shook her head and frowned at him. "I'm just a person that needs help… and if you are who I think you are… You might be the person to help me."

He drew away slightly, head cocked to one side, as he considered her answer. Finally, he stood up and took a step back. Then, he bowed deeply and reached out for her hand. He smiled up at her before he placed a soft kiss on her knuckle. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes at his dramatics. "Yes, I am Gambit, petite, but his help come non' so cheap."

Travis felt a thrill went through her body and she immediately pulled her hand away and got up. "You? You're really Gambit? The Gambit?" she demanded.

"Yes, yes," he said with an irritated wave of his hand.

"The Gambit? Remy LeBeau, that Gambit?" she continued with some degree of excitement. At the mention of his name, he narrowed his eyes at her in suspicion, "How you know dat?"

She ignored his question, "Can you do that card trick again?"

Though suspicious, he acquiesced to her request. A gloved hand reached into a hidden pocket in his trench coat and he pulled out a card. Travis watched closely with anticipation before she released a held breath when his hands glowed and the card lit up in a reddish purple light. He tossed it and it exploded harmlessly to the side. She stared at the remnants of the card, then back at the man who threw it. In response, he did a sarcastic little bow.

"Oh gods…" she murmured as she felt her strength completely leave her. She sat there with a stunned expression at her new companion. This was real… he was real… she was… Travis pinched herself hard and felt the pain travel up her arm. Yep, she was real too.

"What? Never seen a mutant before?" he practically sneered at her. She quickly recovered as her mind quickly worked up a plan.

"Well… no… that's sort of the problem," she answered, brows furrowed in thought. He gave her a bemused look, "Where you been livin' petite? Now tell Remy how you know his name 'eh?"

"I need your help, I need you to take me somewhere," she told him.

"Why you ignore de question? And Remy already told you, help non' come cheap."

"Look, I'll pay you once I have access to money. Right now, I just need you to drop me off somewhere. Please?"

"Why not call a cab?"

"They don't take Canadian money."

At this, he snorted with laughter, "Den you think other way to get home. Remy non' a cab driver." He turned away from her as an act of leaving. He made it to the side of the roof before her desperate voice pulled him back.

"You're Remy LeBeau. You more or less work as a mercenary but you are, or were, a part of the Thieves Guild. Your mutation allows you to charge up the kinetic energy in anything you touch, causing them to explode but your choice of weapon are a deck of cards that you always keep on your person."

He immediately stalked back towards her with a frown on his face, "Now, mabbe you tell how you know all dat 'bout Remy and mabbe Remy will take you where you wanna go." She shook her head, "I can't… that's why I need you to take me somewhere."
His interest peaked, he crossed his arms, "Where you wanna go?"

"1407 Graymalkin Lane."

His frown deepened, "Why you wanna go dere fer? You no look like a rich kid to me."

Travis smiled tiredly. All this was taking a toll on her brain. She was already quite convinced that she was going insane, "Then no harm done right? You'll get paid for services rendered."

"Den you tell Remy how you know?"

"I'll try… but you probably won't believe me."

"Remy try," he said with such finality that she believed him. He extended a hand to her and pulled her up from her position on the floor. He bent and scooped her up once more in his arms. She could not help the giggle that emitted from her guilty mouth. He did not have to tell her to hold on as her arms immediately went around his neck and she buried her head in his neck.

"I'm afraid of heights," she mumbled as an semi-truthful excuse and his body shook with laughter.

While it was not entirely untrue, they both knew that the Cajun charm was too much for any sane woman to resist. And deep inside, really deep inside, Travis hated herself for this momentary lapse of weakness. Though at that moment, she was happy to indulge in her hormonal demands. She felt the muscles underneath bunch up and can't help the small thrill than ran through her body. If this was a dream, she never wanted to wake up. Without any warning, they were off. Buildings sped by and spun her head.

Of course, he didn't carry her all the way. That would be ridiculous, even for him. After they turned several corners, he, quite unceremoniously, dumped her on a park bench and quirked his head to indicate that she should follow him. She did, though it was with a sore behind and a scowl aimed at his back. It was a few minutes of tense walking before they arrived at their destination.

An ordinary bus stop.

"You want me to take a bus?!" Travis practically screeched at the Cajun. He shrugged nonchalantly, "You wan' Bus #19. And this way, nobody say Remy leave a crazy girl outside some rich kid's house. Mabbe if you find your way, Remy come find you." He grabbed her hand and pushed some coins into it before he saluted her in an ironic fashion, turned around and started to walk away.

Travis stared dumbly at the few coins in her hand before panic at being left alone again took hold and she chased after him, "Waaaait! But…but… you said you wanted to know about –"

"I'll find you," was his reply before he flashed a smile in her direction that made her vaguely weak in the knees, "But only when I want to. No worry petite, Remy will be watching." As for her, she was simply too stunned by what had transpired that she simply stood there and watched as he disappeared into the dark streets. A gust blew by and she hurried back to the lighted safety of the bus stop where the small group of people shot her suspicious stares. Being a bit more self-conscious, she checked the bus schedule pasted on the side of the bus shelter and almost broke into a string of curses and tears.

The bus came every two hours.

With a sigh, Travis dug into her pockets and pulled out her mp3 player. Humming softly to herself, she plugged in the ear buds and resigned herself to a long wait. By the time she went through a quarter of her playlist, the bus stop was void of people. She shivered more out of anxiety than the cold. So, when a lone bus finally pulled up, she was more than happy to throw herself into its welcoming warmth and its not-so-welcoming bus driver. She paid her fare with the coins that he gave her and settled down on one of the seats. It wasn't until the bus started that the thought of what she was doing sunk in.

As desperate as she was in her situation, deep deep down… Travis hoped that the mansion did not exist...

----------

Unfortunately, Lady Fortune was a bitch.

A long bus ride later, Travis found herself on a large mahogany leather sofa in a large drawing room that was decorated lavishly with beautifully decorated oak shelves and leather bound books. The décor however, was lost on her as she stared unnervingly at the bald man across from her who threatened to rip out her sanity and use it for target practice. He did not look like Patrick Stewart. If anything, Patrick Stewart looked like him. Her hands clenched and unclenched as she tried to get something, anything, to work.

"I must say, this is certainly a strange time for a visitor. You quite surprise us tonight, Miss…?"

Oh lords, he talked. He actually talked. To her.

A frown marred the smooth brow and his wheelchair whirled to life as he rolled slowly towards her. Oh jeez, he came closer. What should she do?!

"Er… eh… guh," was all she managed as she stared, bug-eyed at the man in the wheelchair. Vaguely, in the back of her mind, she registered the fact that she probably acted and looked like a complete and utter idiot.

"Miss, I can't help you if I don't know what you're looking for," he continued in a voice reserved for psychopathic maniacs. Travis swallowed thickly and stared at the floor. If she didn't look at him, then he won't really be the Charles Xavier. She opened her mouth, croaked, cleared her throat and began again.

"I… er… I'm Travis… and… er… I guess… I need your help…" she fell silent and when he didn't interrupt her, she had to look up to see if she was still really where she thought she was. The bald man in the wheelchair was still there and he gave her a sympathetic look of encouragement.

"And… erm… I don't really belong here… and… erm… I need… just… er…"

"This is a school, we don't just let any body wander in here," someone said from the corner and Travis almost bolted from her seat. The man who spoke up had been sitting quietly in the corner until now. But the visor that sat the bridge of his nose only further convinced her that she was turning insane.

"Scott, it's alright," the redheaded woman told him with a gentle hand on his muscular shoulder. They were both dressed in dressing gowns and looked like they had a rude awakening. Travis quickly looked away. Was she hyperventilating? She didn't think she was…

"I think she's just a little confused."

"Of course I'm confused!" Travis burst out suddenly and in the silence, her outburst rang in her ears. She blushed hotly both in mortification and embarrassment and wrung her hands nervously, "It's just… it's just a bit confusing…"

"What is?" prompted the Professor.

"You… all of you… the Xmen I mean."

"How…how did you know about that?" Scott burst out, a frown on his lips. At this, Travis looked up at him, startled. That was when the realization smacked her in the face like a bag of bricks. She was a liability in this place, wherever this place was, and the less people who knew about her, the better. With a sort of cornered look, she turned to the Professor and desperately hoped that he picked up on her worried thoughts. He must have because he glanced at her curiously before he turned to the other two in the room.

"Jean, Scott, if you'd leave us for a moment please," he said, more of a command than a request. With a frown, Scott and Jean stood up and with a worried glance behind their backs, the two left the room and closed the door behind them quietly. Once they were gone, Travis inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. She steeled herself before she looked straight at the Professor.

"Y-y-y-you must realize," she faltered, cursed, and started again, "You must realize this is kinda hard for me."

"Oh?"

"I… I come from another world," she started then sighed, "I know, it sounds a bit stupid… but… just bear with me… please?" The only answer she received was a sympathetic nod and with a deep breath, she continued, "The world that I come from… this… all this, your world, I mean, is created by a comic book company."

It was at this that his eyebrows raised in surprise before he repeated what she said with some degree of scepticism, "A… comic book company."

"Is that so hard to believe?" she asked as she scratched the side of her head more out of frustration than an itch. "I mean… you've probably dealt with stranger things… and you can tell I'm telling the truth… right?"

He sighed and crossed his hands, "Miss…Travis, I realize that you are telling the truth though I also sense some… confusion in you."

Uh oh. Confusion? That's not good… She didn't want him to think she was crazy… even though she did not know whether or not she was... with any sort of certainty…

"Look, I can tell you things… lots of things… things that someone like me shouldn't know," she said quietly out of desperation as she clutched at her hands.

"And you're not a mutant?' he asked uncertainly, unsure of where exactly she stood. Travis ran a hand through her hair, "I'm just as confused as you are I think… I… I don't know how I got here and I know that here shouldn't exist at all…"

"What exactly do you know?"

"Specifically about this world? I know who you are… what you can do… what your students can do, who they are, your mansion, your training facilities, Cerebro," at the mention of Cerebro, the Professor flinched but made motions for her to continue, "about your enemies, and… I suppose depending on which version, what's going to happen…"

"But you're not a mutant," he said, this time more of a statement than a question. Travis shook her head with a sort of wince, "Er… No… sir…"

At this, the Professor leaned back against his wheelchair with a sigh and massaged his temples as if in frustration. Travis blinked at the reaction. It worried her. The Professor was supposed to know the answer to … everything. She chewed on the bottom of her lip as she waited for a response from him. Now that her "secret" is out, her entire existence here sounded like a ridiculous joke. Travis rubbed the bridge of her nose and squinted at the man who seemed to be deep in contemplation.

"I…I'm sorry to dump this on you but… I didn't know where else to turn," she finally said to break the silence and wrung her hands together, "I mean… I've got no connections and no access to my accounts, I probably don't even have any sort of certificate to prove that I'm alive or exists! So… I mean… urm… if I could maybe stay here until… I find some sort of stable… thing…"

Travis trailed off with a grimace. She sounded like she was begging.

"I mean, I know you're a school and all. Maybe I could work here for a bit until I get a… stable footing? Or something?"

He sighed and looked up at her.

"I'm afraid that would be your only option. It would be too dangerous if word got out of your knowledge. Not just for us you realize, but if your knowledge extends to the rest of the superhuman community…" He did not complete the thought but Travis definitely got the message. She was a liability to superheroes… and if the wrong people were to get a hold of her, the information could be tortured out of her…

"I understand," she replied soberly.

"I'm sure I'll find something for you to do around the mansion. We could always use the extra help though I'm afraid I won't be able to pay you much," he told her, "I'll need to discuss this with the rest of the teachers here before any firm decisions are made." Travis nodded in agreement. The man was practically giving her free room and board. This was already an incredibly generous offer. She choked down the caged feeling and managed a weak smile.

He smiled a tired smile in response and reached out to take her hand in his, "This is all very hard for me to take in but I believe you."

That was all she needed to hear. With a sniffle, she sprang up from the couch and enveloped the surprised Professor in a large sobbing hug. She had been so confused and this was a welcomed change. A large weight lifted off her shoulders just from those simple words. He believed her! She was not insane… she was not insane. Xavier patted her on the back rather awkwardly but smiled a genuine smile.

"I'll ask Scott to show you to a spare room. It won't be anything glamorous I'm afraid."

"I don't need much," she replied with a bright smile as she scrubbed at her face. He nodded and sent a telepathic link out.

"May… may I ask you a question?" she asked as they waited for Scott to arrive. When he turned to face her to indicate for her to go on, Travis took a deep breath, "May I ask who are a part of your Xmen team currently?"

When he frowned at her question, she immediately provided the reason for her inquiry, "There are several parallel existences of your world. I… don't quite know which one I am in." The frown deepened, "I don't think it's a good idea Miss Travis for you to find out because it gives you the knowledge to meddle… but I suppose you'll find out sooner or later. Currently, there are only three. Scott and Jean, whom you've met, and Ororo. We are still a very small operation I'm afraid."

Her stomach sank when she realized that she was in a very early incarnation of the Xmen universe. Logan was not on the team. Even stranger was that Remy did not seem to know the mutant connection to the mansion which meant that Rogue was not in the picture as well. There were so many things that could go wrong just by her being here this early on in the story. At least the people weren't dressed like they were from the 80s (she'd kill herself).

"Is…is there a student by the name of Bobby Drake here?" she blurted out. He raised an eyebrow at her question, "Yes."

"And is he friends with John Allerdyce?"

"I believe so… is that important?"

"No… not really," she lied and knew immediately that he saw right through her. With a sigh of frustration, she worried her bottom lip and wished that Scott would get here faster. Thankfully, he did not push the issue and the two simply lapsed into an uncomfortable awkward sort of silence. Travis scratched her arm self-consciously, "Urm… what should I say if I get asked about who I am?" She did not like to fly solo in a situation like this.

He sighed, "It might be best if you were to hide the fact that you're not a mutant. Some of the students had had traumatic encounters and it is best to not bring those up until they're ready again." Travis nodded.

In other words, she was to go into hiding; to act like she did not exist.

A knock from the door interrupted the awkward silence that ensued again and Travis almost jumped for joy. She needed time to digest this and get her head together. The man known as Cyclops walked into the room and frowned at her before he turned to the Professor, "You wanted me Professor?"

"Yes Scott, could you please show Travis to the upstairs spare room in the west wing?"

He nodded but not without another suspicious frown in her direction. Then, he turned and left, with all the expectations that she would follow him. With a hasty thank you and goodnight in the Professor's direction, Travis rushed after him. In the darkened hallways, she was practically blind and if not for the annoyed grunts that Scott made in her direction, she might not have been able to follow him to her assigned room. It was with some degree of relief when he finally stopped abruptly outside a door. Unfortunately, she did not realize that he had stopped and walked, face first, into his back. Travis stumbled back and clutched her now bruised nose.

She honestly hoped that not everybody were as built as he was, she might suffer from a self-image crisis.

"Watch where you're going," he hissed in annoyance before he unlocked the door and switched on the lights in the room. Travis scooted inside with a mumbled apology. He handed her the key that opened the door, stiffly wished her a goodnight and closed the door. As his footsteps faded down the hallway, Travis clutched the key in her right hand and stared at the room that stared silently back.

It was… small. Truth be told, she did not expect anything glamorous but the room was about the size of two dorm rooms squashed together. There was a double-sized bed pushed against a corner and beside it sat a small dresser with a table lamp. On the other side of the room, a small work table was pushed against the wall and a bookshelf was attached on the wall above it. To the side was a small wardrobe and beside it, a door that led to a small private bathroom. Travis breathed a happy sigh. At least it was an en suite bathroom. She didn't really want to face the others if she didn't have to. As anti-social as that may be, she did not want to be one to mess things up and send the universe askew. Her mouth quirked slightly when she realized the room had no windows. The caged metaphor never seemed more appropriate than now. Stuck in this fantastic reality… She shook her head to clear her thoughts. Now was neither the time nor place.

Travis turned on the small table lamp before she switched off the main lights. Then, she deposited the contents of her pockets onto the small dresser. The dim light bounced off her scratched up mp3 player and her well used wallet. She placed the keys that Scott gave her beside her wallet with a sigh. This was she had in her meager possession to start a new life. What a miserable joke.

She sat down on the bed in a melancholy mood and kicked off her hiking boots. Her hoodie, she draped on the back of the chair before she stripped off her jeans and t-shirt. In her underwear, she slipped under the covers tiredly. With a click, she switched off the table lamp and the room descended into darkness. As she tried to get comfortable, the only thought that permeated her head was that she hoped that when she woke up, everything will be back to normal.

And all that had transpired was simply a nightmare.

Just a very surreal and fantastic nightmare.

~*~

A/N: Hope I didn't butcher Gambit's accent too much!