Scott Summers rapped sharply on the bedroom door. "Five minutes, Remy, or I'm pulling you out by your ponytail!" He got no response, but went down to the kitchen for a coffee refill anyway.
"He awake?"
"He'll be down in four minutes and thirty seconds." Logan refilled the mug with black coffee.
Three minutes later a rumpled Remy appeared. He was wearing the same jeans and sweatshirt as the night before. His hair was loose. "You've got keyboard face," Scott informed him. Remy rubbed at the red marks on his cheek.
"Coffee?" Logan asked. The thief nodded. After half a mug he managed a few words.
"Mornin'. Who we meetin'?" His thick accent had softened almost immediately after hooking up with his current partners. It was still distinctly Nawlins, but he didn't sound like the back-woods boy he'd pretended to be at first.
"Magneto. Coffee down one tube, air down the other." Scott ignored the red-eyed glare. "In one hour."
"Where's Jubes?" Remy asked.
"School," Logan replied.
"Oh yeah, it's Monday."
"You want some food with your caffeine?"
"Non, merci, Scotty."
"Go get presentable. We leave in twenty."
"Sure."
"That kid's gonna be the death of ya," Logan informed Scott.
"Yeah, but he's cute." Logan growled. "Don't give me that. You've been flirting with him since he was still jail bait."
"And ya haven't?" Logan stretched. He pulled out a cigar.
"Out back, Runt. No smokin' in the house."
Gambit curled up in the backseat and watched the scenery whip by. "In a surprise move," the radio announced, "the Senate has voted down the mutant registration bill. Sen. Kelly has announced plans to put a revised proposal on the table some time next month."
"Connard," Remy muttered. "Wouldn't mind doin' that one."
"Kelly? No. Probably wouldn't even charge for it," Scott said. He ran a hand through his hair. He checked his watch. "I hate traffic," he muttered.
"395 delays…" the traffic report began. Scott turned off the radio.
"Ah, blessed silence." Remy rolled his eyes.
"You gonna start recitin'?"
"Shut up, Gambit."
"Yes, sir, Mr. Cyclops, sir."
"Brat."
"But y' love me anyway." Logan snickered. He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel.
"Why is it I'm always drivin' durin' rush hour?"
"You're eldest," Scott informed him. "Besides, your solution to being cut off doesn't involved blowing off the asshole's tires."
"Just cuz I ain't got a gun in my head. That's it! We're movin' to West Virginia."
Gambit sat up in dismay. "Non, cher, anyt'in' but dat!" Scott snickered.
"Logan, stop teasin' the Cajun."
"Who's teasin'? I'm serious. City life ain't worth it. Maybe Oregon."
Scott eyed the older man warily. "Oregon? Have fun. Why don't you go fishing or something?"
"Right. Ya ain't lived 'til ya spent a week in the woods."
"There are trees in de woods right?"
"Lots of trees and grasses and ferns.."
"And skeeters. And spiders. And ticks," Scott chimed in.
"And things what wanna eat y'."
"This from a swamp rat? How disappointin'."
"More like street rat," Scott said. "Wake me when we get to the exit."
"Oh no ya don't." Logan ticked his ribs.
"Hey!"
"No sleepin', Street Rat." Remy snickered. Scott glared cheerfully at the thief. "Can't believe you kids ain't been campin'."
Scott made a face. "City boy through and through. I'll leave the wild outdoors to you except during jobs."
"How did I end up with three freakin' city kids in my house?"
"As I remember it, you picked me up in New York. You found Remy in Madripoor and Jubilee tagged along in Hong Kong. Are you sensing a theme yet?"
"Yeah. Stop takin' foreign jobs. Always meant to ask, how'd ya end up in Madripoor anyhow?"
"Doin' a job." Remy shrugged. "De pay was pretty good. Couldn't refuse."
"Fer that Guild a yers?"
"Non, Gambit don't take guild assignments. Mostly cuz they ain't offered," he added honestly.
"Is there a Guild in DC?"
"I'd tell y', chere, but then I'd have t' kill y'."
Logan jabbed at the radio. "… 270 spur. Bladensburg Road is slow. And we have rubber-necking delays on 395 N. This traffic report is brought to you by Lindsay Chevrolet." Scott turned if off again.
"Headache, Darlin'?" Logan asked.
"Of course. The traffic report's just makin' it worse."
Remy leaned forward to gently rub Scott's temples. It was becoming something of a daily ritual. Scott tipped his head back into the gentle hands. "No sleepin', Darlin'."
"No darlin's in front of the kid. You'll give him ideas."
"Already has ideas. Totally hormonal, as Jubilee would say."
"T'anks, cher," Remy drawled.
"Welcome."
"Cul."
"Watch yer mouth, kid."
"Why? Thought y'all did that for me."
"Did he just give me permission to gag him?" Scott asked idly. Remy tugged a lock of hair sharply. "Hey!" Scott caught the young man's wrist. "Be good."
"I'm so unappreciated around here." Scott kissed the inside of the captured wrist in apology and let go. "That's better." Logan shook his head.
Eric Lensherr, otherwise known as Magneto, was not the most patient of men. He was just about to abandon his meeting when he heard "Oncle Eric!" A young man in a trenchcoat was waving at him. His mouth twitched into a brief and quickly hidden smile. The young man greeted him with a hug and a kiss to each cheek. "It's been ages." The young man settled down next to him.
"It is good to finally see you." Magneto's tone held a hint of impatience.
"Oui, Oncle. De traffic was incredible. There was this huge wreck on de bridge, a tractor trailer, a streetsweeper, and a minivan. Closed t'ings down for miles. Days like this make me wish I could fly. Always thought that'd be cool. Soarin'. Seein' de worl' from way up high. Mebbe forgettin' that there be a sniper in de trees wantin' your plumage," he ended cynically. "Anyways, de others be waitin' down at de American Café. We gonna treat y' to some food bein' as it's gettin' so late. Come on, Oncle." Magneto let himself be pulled out of the bench. He tried to remember the last time he'd been treated with such irreverence. "Y' still play chess?'
"Yes, I play chess." They chatted idly about opening moves until the traveled one level down to the restaurant and met up with Cyclops and Wolverine. Magneto wasn't quite sure what to call them. He didn't think their working names would be appropriate, but they also hadn't given him any aliases to use in conversation. The two older men of the trio took one side and the youngest one, his "nephew" hemmed him into the booth. The long-haired child didn't seem to be bothered by the fact that he was sitting next to a mutant visionary. No, he was very taken with the menu.
"Y' think it'll actually taste somethin' like home?" he asked aloud.
"Well, the New York Pasta Pie isn't bad," Cyclops offered. Gambit tapped his fingers on the table. Eric was just about ready to freeze him when Cyclops just reached across and put his hand over the offending appendages. "Stop it."
"Je suis desole." Gambit's hand settled in his lap for about a moment before he started talking again. The hand started moving as he started talking. "Well, de spices are never right. They never seem t' get them in balance. Ma Tante always told me that y' got t' have de balance just right or de one spice gonna overpower de whole dish. People seem t' think de only spice dey can use be cayenne." He sighed. "P'rhaps de only positive of Emril bein' that people use garlic too now. Cajun dis, Cajun dat, ain't none of it Cajun neither."
"Kid," Logan said. "Kid," he said a little louder.
"Oui?"
"Don't make me shut ya up."
"Fine. Whatever. Don't listen t' a word I be sayin'."
"Kid," Wolverine growled. The Cajun pressed his lips together.
"See, I can be quiet." He said after a breath. "I just don't like it."
"That's it. No more coffee. No more soda. No more iced tea." Gambit made a talking hand and ignored the mini-lecture. It was just Logan being Logan. He was used to that. Now, if Scott started griping he was going to be in for a long day.
"Cajun." Damn. Scott was talking.
"Oui?"
"Remember that headache?"
"Oui."
"Don't make it worse." Gambit quieted almost immediately. Magneto couldn't help but grin at these children. They were so relaxed. They ordered without further editorial comments and got down to the business at hand. "You know our rates."
"Yes, I did my research before contacting you."
"Then you agree to our usual terms?"
"The usual terms being?"
"We control the situation. Once the job is initiated, you have no further contact with us unless we are in need of you. In that eventuality we will contact you. Payment must be made half up-front. Half upon completion. We will take your proposal and return our decision within three days. After which time, if we do not take the assignment we will offer suggestions as to which organization might be interested in it. Do you agree?"
"I agree." He handed Cyclops the manila envelope. The young man nodded and set it on the seat next to him.
"Now, we eat." Logan snickered.
"Thought that was my line, Slim."
Magneto considered the young men that had been bickering over dessert. They seemed to get on like a family should. Caring beneath the conflict. He thought they would do what he needed to have done. They didn't seem to care for anyone outside of their small circle. Although he had to admit, that they did try to include him. The boy, tried the hardest. There was a faint frown on his face now. "Damn. Be back in a minute, mes amis." He disappeared through the waiters' door without a moment's hesitation.
"Think we should follow?"
"No, I think we should pay and get the fuck out of here. We could always follow. But that should wait until I finish my sundae." Scott scooped up another spoonful of chocolate and ice cream. Remy settled back into his seat and took up his coffee again. He sipped at it.
"Anythin' we should be able to deny?" Logan asked.
"Non, de manager was just havin' a disagreement with one of de waitresses. I convinced him to back off."
"How much damage did you do?"
"Glad to know how highly y' think of me. Didn't do anythin' to him." Magneto shook his head and smiled gently. "Just talked t' him." Scott shook his head.
"Poor bastard." Remy stuck his tongue out. "What did I tell you about that?"
"And what did I tell y'?"
"Yeah, but Logan'd get jealous."
"Anythin' else for you, Mags?" Gambit asked solicitously.
Magneto frowned. "No one calls me 'Mags'," he stated.
"They should."
"You are very trusting of a man who could kill you were you sit." Gambit yawned theatrically.
"So could they." He shrugged. "But y' won't hurt me."
"How can you be so sure?" Magneto did his best to sound threatening, but he couldn't keep the smile off of his face. It had been years since he had been confronted by such a trusting smile.
"Because if y' did, you'd be dead."
"What?"
"Not'in'. Check, chere," Remy asked as the waitress passed by. She shook her head and kissed him on the cheek.
"Don't worry about it, we'll cover it. A thank you for putting Ralph in his place." She smiled. "Call me?"
"Sure, chere." He pocketed her number. Magneto couldn't help it, he laughed.
"You owe me ten bucks," Scott said. Logan growled but handed over the ten. "I told you we'd get the man to laugh." They left the restaurant. Magneto shook hands with all of them.
"I look forward to your call." They split ways. Magneto watched in amusement as the two older men pulled Gambit away from the shop he was wandering into. He left shaking his head. Suddenly, he felt a lot more confident about them.
"Jubes, where is that shipment of C-4?" Scott called.
"It should be here in three hours." Jubilee lay on her stomach with her latest book open in front of her on the rug. She had her cell-phone clipped to her waist and her handless set on her ear. On the other ear she had the land-line. She took her hand off the receiver. "So, Tiffany, what exactly did Lou tell Jenny?" Sprawled on the couch above her Remy was napping. His fingers twitched as he came awake to Jubilee laughing. "God, what was he thinking? Like, she's the biggest bitch in school, what did he think was gonna happen?" Remy stretched and reached over her head for the remote. "Doncha dare, Cajun. I'm warnin' ya," Jubilee growled. "I'm talkin' here."
"Fine, I'll just go see what Logan's up t'. Hi, Tiff."
"She says 'hi, Gorgeous,'" Jubilee winked. Remy shook his head at her and rolled his eyes. "And, she's coming for dinner tomorrow if you're not cooking."
"I'm wounded, chere." Remy left Jubilee to her talking.
"Hold on a sec, Tiff." She put the land-line on hold. "Summer's Consulting." She listened for a moment and switched to Arabic. "What the hell are you talking about you mis-birthed son of a camel? I told you. Payment by Tuesday. That was your last notification, Jackal-bait," she informed the customer. "I'll give you until tomorrow noon before sending Logan out. Good." She hung up. "Tiff? I'll have to call you back." She pulled the laptop from under the coffeetable. Remy had promised to hang her up by her earrings if she put it on the mahogany. And after that last incident with the varnish being ruined by the heat of the processor she agreed. She connected it to the phone line and dialed into their Swiss account. She programmed an alert for any transfers. Satisfied, she disconnected and dialed up Tiffany's number from memory.
"Hey, Tiff. So, let's see. Where were we? Oh, yeah. So what do you think? Lou's new friend, Seth, doable or not?"
Remy perused Magneto's proposal. He was perched on the counter in the kitchen. "Feet off the counter, Cajun." Remy rolled his eyes and ignored the order. His socks were clean. And he knew damn well that Scott always washed the counter off before he cooked. He did the same thing. Logan growled low. Gambit looked at him. His bangs were hanging in his face again. That always drove Logan and Scott crazy. They thought it obscured his vision too much. He'd adapted to it. "Are ya tryin' to piss me off today, kid?" Remy thought for a moment. He nodded. He went back to the proposal. Logan snorted. Remy reached. Logan knew what was happening. "Stop it, kid. Don't try playing with my emotions."
"Moi?"
"Innocent doesn't work on ya, Gumbo." Logan was just a little too close for Remy to dive away. Logan caught the thief's arm. "There are stools fer a reason. Use one."
"That's no fun, cher."
"I'm not above puttin' ya over my knee."
"Believe him, Remy," Scott said from the doorway. "What's going on here?"
"Just gettin' him off the counter."
"Why?" Scott asked in surprise. Logan shook his head.
"Why me?" he asked the sky. "Listen, both of ya. Counters are fer cookin' or eatin', even fer doin' paperwork, not for sittin' on." They both stared at him. He shook his head again. "And people say I ain't housebroken. Off." He tugged. Remy settled on the stool and brushed his hair out of his eyes.
"Y' looked at this yet?" he asked Scott.
"Not yet. We've got plenty of time. There's other accounts to be working on."
"But this one should be fun. He wants t' take out de X-men's leaders."
"Yer kiddin'." Logan peered at the papers. He grinned. "Well, well, well. Lookie here, Charles Xavier and Jean Grey. And their computer."
"Think of de money t' be made off that information." Scott laughed at the dreamy smile.
"I think I know what you two are voting for this one." Scott shrugged. "Let's get these other accounts taken care of first. Then you two can play." He paused. Somehow that sounded wrong. He shook the image out of his head.
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