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Peja's Wonderful World of Makebelieve Import
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Published:
2020-11-05
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1,658
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1/1
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15
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Ain't No Rest for the Wicked

Summary:

Short Summery: Its been a couple of years since Remy has parted ways with the X-Men as well as his former love, Rogue. Since then he was moved back to New Oeleans doing what he's best at, dealing cards and turning tricks, as well as a little theviery every now and then. When Remy takes intersts in a street player who gets herself into more trouble than she can bargan for, will he be able to handle the events alone, or will he have to seek the help of his former co-workers, the X-Men?

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:



Ain't No Rest for the Wicked
by dannievicious


It was a hot night, as most nights were in the summer time down in New Orleans, but this one was sure to take the cake. Shrugging off his trench coat, Remy walked the unremitting crowded streets. It was not odd for him to be out this late, or rather early, but the reason… Well the reason was idiotic, even by his standards. Weaving through civilians and tourists he perked up when he heard the sound of an acoustic guitar being played and the melodic voice of the singer. He smirked as he came closer, his top hat sitting low, he stood in front of the player’s open guitar case which awaited bills and coins to be thrown into it as he listening to them sing.

“Oh, Papa the wolf is knockin’ at ma door again.
Hm, Papa teach me how to shoot the villain dead,
‘Cause he’s peekin’ through ma window, he’s knockin’ at ma door,
I‘m hidin‘ in a corner, no, I can‘t take no more.
Hm, Papa the wolf is knockin’ at ma door again.”


“That’s a sad song you’re playin’ there, Cherie. Is it true?” he asked, looking up at the girl from beneath the rim of his hat so that she could not see his eyes through the shadow it created. He did not want to scare her off now did he? She just glanced at him and continued singing, nodding a thanks to people that left money in her case. “Come on, Petite. Every time I come heyea you neva talk to me. You’re hurtin’ Remy’s feelin’s na,” he said, his arms opened and palms up turned, not knowing what else he could do. He had been visiting this girl every morning for a week now and she never once caved in. It was not like him to have to wait so long for one girl’s attention. When she finally looked at him he sighed in relief going back to his usual relaxed position.

“Ma Grandmama always told me that theya ain’t no rest for the wicked, Cajun, and by the looks of it, you appear mighty suspect to me. So you bests be on your way if you know what’s good for you, mon ami, because what you’re sellin’ I ain’t buyin,” she replied in an indifferent tone. Remy smiled, rubbing his left cheek with his right hand, feeling the rough stubble as he looked her over. The girl was small, both petite and short. Her skin was the color of milk chocolate and her eyes dark like earth and brushed with black eye shadow. She wore a off white lacy shirt that looked like a short version of a baby doll dress, a pair of black skinny jeans, and off white flats to go with it. Her long black hair was curled in ringlets making her look even more like a fragile doll. But Remy knew better, the delicate ones were always trouble and by the mouth on her, he was getting a good dose of that.

“I did always like Creole women. Theya full of spice, but neva could catch one ‘cause they see too much,” he replied, “You know, I neva did catch your name, Belle.” He was happy that he had finally made some progress. She was annoyed by him, but annoyance could turn into interest real quick. That’s how he had gotten Rogue, although that did not quite end the way he had wanted it to.

“I didn’t give it,” she retorted, not looking at him as she played, “Get goin’, Cajun.” Still smiling, Remy tipped his hat to her, bidding her good day. “See you tomorrow, ma cherie,” turning on his heel, Remy began down the street through the throng of bodies again. There was other business that he had to attend to tonight. He walked a few more blocks down to a run down club, approaching the bouncer outside the door looked at him, “I’m heyea to see Julien.” The bouncer nodded and looked inside, making some sort of hand gesture. No more than five minutes later was a tall handsome man with bright blue eyes and light blonde hair coming out to meet him.

“Gambit,” he greeted the man with a nod.

“Julien,” Remy replied with a grin, “As sharp as eva I see.” Julien straightened out his crisp dark grey suit and walked with Remy to a nearby alley way, shrouded in darkness since the street lights could not reach the narrow street. “I think you owe me something, mon ami.”

“I don’t have the money, Gambit. Just give me another week,” Julien replied stiffly. It was not in the man’s nature to beg.

“Julien, na you know Gambit not dumb. Did you not score big in a poker game against Bennett not but three days ago?” Remy asked taking a few steps closer to the man who reacted by backing up against the wall. Perfect.

“I spent it, three days. Just give me three days!” his voice hardened into an almost angry sound. Julien could not bare to behave like the weakling he knew that he looked like at the moment. His voice was all he had control of.

“Money don’t grow on trees and I need what I come lookin’ for now,” Remy replied, reaching into his pants pocket. He could have sworn that Julien stopped breathing for a moment as Remy pulled a cigarette from his jeans and lit it with the tip of his index finger before setting it into his mouth. “So what you got to say?”

At Remy’s words he heard shouting from the Main Street. He peeked around the corner and as he did the little singer girl flew by, her big guitar case swigging wildly in her hand and threatening to knock her over. After her ran three men, one a good bulking type, that did not look like they were up to anything good.

“We’ll have to finish this up later,” Gambit said, patting Julien’s chest and running off after the men. He saw the group run into another near by alley. Poor girl probably did not know that it was a dead end. Hurrying after the group Remy booked it over to the opening, sliding to a stop in front of it and what he saw he could not believe. Little singer girl swung her case so hard that it hit one of the men in the jaw, knocking him backwards and causing blood to flow from the corner of his mouth and knocking him out. The biggest one grabbed her from behind by her waist as she threw it at the other man who had started to charge her he fell to the ground as well and stayed down for a moment or two. When he began to get up Remy approached him, “Now now, you just go back to sleep,” he said pulling out his staff and knocking the man unconscious. Remy turned his attention back to the girl and the large man who had still not noticed that he was there. The girl had some how gotten free from the man and had him up against the brick wall by his neck. Although her hands did not seem to be that tightly wrapped around his neck he seemed to be choking. From where Remy stood, and the dim light of the alley way, he could see only blackness in her eyes, like they were filled with ink or oil and the rage, the rage was enough to make even Remy take a step back. She was a mutant. Pulling himself together he briskly walked over to the girl, cautiously laying a hand on her shoulder.

“Come on Cherie. You don’t want to do this,” he said to the girl. She jerked her head to look at him her eyes still ink-like. “Let tha man go,” he tried again, sliding a gloved hand down her arm and gently pulling her hands away from her neck. The man dropped to the ground gasping for air and clutching his throat as the girl’s eyes closed and she fainted. Remy managed to catch her before she hit the cement street and swept up her legs as well.

“I’ll kill the bitch, I swea I’ll kill huh,” he said between breaths, glaring at the girl in Remy’s arms.

“Obviously you’d be de one gettin’ killed,” Remy replied, walking off with the girl. “I’d advise you te just stay away.” With that Remy stalked off into the early morning to take care of the ever surprising Creole Belle.


A/N: Okay, so I’ve been watching and reading X-Men since I can remember and Rogue/Gambit was always my favorite couple along with Storm/Wolverine, but I never really liked the way Rogue treated Gambit sometimes so I decided to make my own character. By the way. The words are not spelled wrong. I decided to write in away that would make it easier for people to imagine the character’s accents. This is the way that I imagine hearing Remy speak. Hopefully you all like it and I hope you leave comments. Oh and I’m sorry, updates will be slow. I usually write whenever I have inspiration. Just ask the readers of my Jacob Black story on Fanfiction Dot Net. XD Oh yes, just for the sake of people that know Remy's story. I forgot that Belledonna's (Gambit's Ex-Wife) brother's name was Julien, who died. The Julien in my story is not the same one.
-KCEE

p.s. I have a soundtrack for this story. The song for this chapter is No Rest for the Wicked by Cage the Elephant. Also, the part of the song that the girl was singing is by me. The verse “I‘m hidin‘ in a corner” is not originally part of the song. I just forgot the verse. Haha. Sorry.


end part 1

Notes:

This orphaned work was originally on Pejas WWOMB posted by author dannievicious.
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