Author: Pirate Turner
Rating: G
Summary: Gambit demands to know what Rogue meant when she called him "lover bayou".
Spoilers: way early issues of X-Men
Warnings: Het
Word Count (excluding heading): 300
Disclaimer: Remy "Gambit" LeBeau, Rogue, and the X-Men are & TM Marvel comics and Disney, not the author, and are used without permission. Everything else is & TM the author. The author makes absolutely no profit off of this work of fan fiction, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Note: This was NOT supposed to come out sounding so Romyish. :-P Talk about being desperate to write!
"Lover Bayou!" It was three days later, in the midst of battle, before Gambit exploded. "What de heck's dat supposed t' mean?!" He dispatched an opponent with a charged card, then whirled to glare at Rogue, who punched another guy's lights out.
She looked at him with a grin and shrugged her shoulders. "Why don't ya figure it out, shugah? It can't be that hard fer ya."
He flicked another card without even looking at the on-rusher. "I been tryin', chere. You from bayou country, too."
"Ah'm from the South, shugah, not so much the bayou." She tried not to laugh at the furious look that darkened his face and had to bite her bottom lip to keep from doing so.
"Let me tell you somethin' 'bout de bayou country, cherie. It makes men strong, builds character an' passion. De people dere, dey believe in de true way o' lovin'. Ya ain't ever been loved 'til ya been loved by a Cajun."
Rogue looked at him with a quirked brow, an amused expression resting on her ruby red lips. "That line sounds like a bumper sticker for yoah bike, Gambit."
"It's a statement o' life, petite."
"Really?" She shrugged, then plowed her closed fist into the face of another FOH member. "Must be somebody else's life." She took to the air, leaving him behind and throwing her concentration fully into the battle. She allowed herself one last, dismal thought: When would Remy ever realize that who he wanted wasn't her for what he thought he offered could never be her life?
The answer came from below her, but she never heard it. "Never, chere." There was another trademark about Cajuns that Remy hadn't mentioned, and that was that once a Cajun put his mind to something, he didn't stop until he got it done.
The End